The Covenant
by Lucifer 00
Summary: From the ashes of a ruined worlds emerges greatness. From the depths of hell emerges one who would unite the dimensions under his rule. From nothing shall emerge his Covenant.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Stargate or any of other universes I'm going to crossover with…**

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**Inspired by StarGate: Galactic Imperium » by VexMaster.**

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**Please, please, please, please, PLEASE, review! Even if you hate this story and want it burned for heresy, tell me. Give me your opinions, suggestions, criticism, hate mail and fan mail! PLEASE!**

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**.**

**Also read this: Clash of Empires... co-written with VexMaster.**

**Also read this: Stargate: Galactic Imperium… written by VexMaster**

**Also read this: Golden Dawn... written by Amann**

**Also read this: War of Gods and Men... written by Amann**

**Also read this: The Raid of the Twelve Colonies... written by me**

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**Go to my Forum if you have any ideas or anything you want to say!**

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**Here's the revision! Hope you enjoy and, once more, I am sorry for canceling my previous story. To all, sorry. **

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_Then the fifth angel sounded, and I saw a star from heaven which had fallen to the earth; and the key of the bottomless pit was given to him. He opened the bottomless pit, and smoke went up out of the pit, like the smoke of a great furnace; and the sun and the air were darkened by the smoke of the pit. Then out of the smoke came locusts upon the earth, and power was given them, as the scorpions of the earth have power_

**Revelation 9:1-3**

**The Holy Bible**

**.**

**.**

"Jesus Christ!"

Henri Jaeger blinked, slowing down on the exercise bike. No one had sounded that surprised on the _Ares II _since lift off from the International Space Station four months ago. Mellissa, their communication officer, stared at the radar screen with a look of surprise. "Freddie," she yelled, hollering down the short corridors of the tiny and cramped space ship.

Fredrick Winters, the ships electronics expert, had just gotten out of the cramped shower space. He dove for the control board, a stream of water droplets floating behind her. He didn't bother with a towel; modesty had long since gone out of style on the _Ares_.

Mellissa's shout had even caused Jean-Luc Jonnard to stick his head out of the little biology lab he spent half his time in. "What's wrong," he called from the down the hatchway.

"Radar's gone to hell."

"What do you mean, 'gone to hell'?" Jonnard demanded.

"There are a hundred, maybe a hundred fifty, objects on the screen that have no god damn right being there," Freddy answered, staring intently at the screen. "Range appears to be a couple of millions kilometers. Strange thing is they weren't there a minute ago."

"_What_?"

"What do you mean," Jaeger shouted.

"I mean they just suddenly appeared," Mellissa replied back hotly. "I did holler when they showed up."

As Freddy fiddled with the radar and computer, and Mellissa floated to the comm. console to talk to Command, Jaeger stayed on the bike, feeling very useless. What good was a geologist millions of kilometers from any rocks? He wouldn't even get his name in the history books – no one remembers the crew of the second expedition to anywhere, after all.

They weren't important.

Fredrick finished his checks. "There's nothing wrong," he said, sounding angry at him and the equipment both. "Get a horn down to Command Mellissa. I can't land this beast on Mars if the Radar's gone frizzy on us after all," he said, rubbing the back of his head.

"Already on it Freddy."

She cleared her thought. "Houston, this is _Ares II_. We have a problem-"

Even at light-speed, there were a good many minutes of waiting. They crawled past, one by one. He, everyone, jumped, when the speaker crackled to life. "_Ares II, this is Houston Control. Ladies and gentlemen, I don't know how to tell you this, but we see 'em too._"

The communicator kept on talking, but no one was listening to her anymore. Jaeger felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand, and shuddered, a sudden chill going down his spine. God, was it really what every astronaut thought about, what every scientist dreamed of?

First contact?

"Call them, Mel," he urged.

She hesitated, unsure. "Maybe Houston should handle this."

"Screw that," he said, surprising himself. "By the time the bureaucrats down there say yes or no, we'll be landing down on Mars! We're here, and we have the right to stop throwing away the most important moment in human history! This is our time in the light!"

Mellissa hesitated, but saw the looks of her crewmembers. She sighed and began to speak: "This is _Ares II _of the International Space Agency, calling to the unknown ships approaching to Earth. We welcome you in the name of Earth, from the people of the Earth." She turned off the transmitter for a moment. "How many languages do you guys know?"

Russian, Mandarin, Japanese, French, German, Spanish, Greek, and even Latin, went out. If the reply from Houston had been a painfully long time, this one was far, far worse. The delay stretched, passed the twenty second speed-of-light delay. "Even if they don't understand," Fredrick muttered. "Shouldn't they at _least _say something back to us?"

It didn't get them answer.

Then, one by one, the strange ships which had been simply floating began darting sunward, toward Earth. "My god, the acceleration! Those aren't rockets," Jaeger shouted. He barely realized that starships would use rockets, especially ships that were this big.

Before he could say anything else, before they could do anything more, the alarms on the International Spaceship blared for a second, giving everyone a single warning before their deaths.

**.**

**.**

It had happened so quickly, so suddenly, no one expected it all. The cities of New York, Chicago, Paris, Moscow, Madrid, Cairo, Beijing, Sydney, Lima, La Paz, Tehran, New Delhi, and a hundred others were already in flames when everyone realized what was going on to them. By the third hour of the attack, Skyscrapers had toppled, apartments exploded, bridges collapsed, and forests were consumed as pillars of black smoke speared the sky, fouling the air.

The nations of Earth, this Earth, wasted no time bickering amongst each other, hurling accusations and curses at each other, wasting precious minutes as their satellites and their few orbital defenses were shot down. The Hubble Telescope and International Space Station were the first to be destroyed.

The precious minutes, the precious **hour **the two hundred or so governments of Earth wasted, two countries had already launched missiles at each other. When the nature of the threat had been realized, and they tried to abort, it had already been too late: And so the cities of Bombay and Islamabad vanished under the plume of the raging fire of a mushroom cloud.

The truth was that the attack originated in space, from the void of blackness where man had just begun to venture. A void filled with dangers that man, so barely knew and ignored in the hopes for a peaceful new frontier. Monsters, the same that children so wisely feared, whom people had shouted that were coming, that were here living amongst them, had finally arrived to claim a new world for their own, a new colony for themselves.

They had been astonished by the sheer number of sentient beings on a single plant, more than they could tame. Save for themselves, never had they encountered such an overpopulated and powerful species. Fear overcame their desire for living space, and they undertook drastic action.

And so to instill fear and control, to maintain order and impose themselves upon their prey and slaves, more than 4 billion died in less than twelve hours. To say that the human population had been decimated would have been a lie: it was far worse for a single reason:

The alien Motherships, three kilometers in length, spawned fleets of smaller crafts that descended down upon the helpless planet. Great droves were destroyed from the jagged space debris that covered the planet, but hundreds more descended across the globe.

For Robert Swan Mueller III, co-director of the FBI, it was his last sight. Running out of the J. Edgar Hoover Building, it was the sight of a large saucer-shaped ship with two boxy nacelles at the sides, a large pyramid-shaped body on top of it, the saucer blending into it. The alien ship, the size of two Nimitz-class Supercarriers's, systematically destroyed entire city blocks

**.**

**.**

He didn't have time to give orders.

A shadow descended over the FBI Headquarters, and the alien ship, whose bottom was scrapped by the tower, vaporized the entire building and everything surrounded it in a second.

For a student named Alexander Reed, whose name and power would surpass that of all, who had just left High School on his way back home, it would be the gust of wind and smell of burning flesh, of the thick taste of coppery blood and the sight of a crater where his block, his house, his _family_, had been before. And the realization, as the alien ship that blasted everything around it, blasted away his life and his family, he was now alone.

Sitting on the emptied road, cars abandoned and totaled around him, as students from his school and people from everywhere ran for their lives, the invasion having reached them, he ran without realizing it.

He was alone.

The scene was repeated across the world.

The Sphinx and Pyramids of Giza was reduced to rubble.

The Empire State building was twisted glass.

The Great Wall was a great pile of rocks.

The Eiffel tower? Nothing of it was left.

The White House was a ransacked room.

Nothing was left.

Three hours into the alien invasion, a cliché so repeated in science fiction, the acting world governments, those who still had a government to lead them, reacted with such a fury.

The United States, reeling but spearhead the assault despite the loss of _Air Force One_ and _Two_, launched its vast arsenal of nuclear weapons. An alien warship over the ruins of Seattle was struck by several nuclear devices, tearing through the armor of the ship and tearing it apart.

Russia unleashed the terrible fury it had so long contained, upon its new enemy. Volgograd and an alien ship vanished in the plume of nuclear disaster as every nuclear country committed the greatest atrocities mankind would know in the name of survival and freedom.

Reaction came at a great speed. Every nuclear weapon was intercepted by alien aircraft and missiles. By the eighth hour, the body pile grew as human civilization was wasted. Millions of soldiers across the world, thousands of Tanks and aircraft forged onward as they fought desperately in an uphill battle. With a fury unmatched, the alien's slaughtered all in their way.

Blood covered the landscape.

By the twelfth hour, it was over.

**.**

**.**

_As soon as Reed walked into his house, he saw his mom sitting at the table. He heard his sister on the computer upstairs, typing away. He walked over to his Mom and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Hello Mami!"_

_His Mami, shorter than he was, smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Good afternoon, Alexander" she said. _

_He dropped his backpack next to the table and walked to the fridge, taking out a quart of milk. He reached into the cupboards next to the fridge and took out fruit loops, along with a bowl. "What's for dinner," he asked after he put the milk back, getting a spoon as he came back. _

"_Chicken."_

_His mom was watching TV._

_Reed felt his spirits damper. _

_He hated chicken. _

**.**

**.**

He blinked.

He felt his heart beat faster and faster as he thought back to the day _before _the aliens had come. It hadn't been the best last day with his family. He had gotten into a fight with his brother, Ricardo, and cursed at his sister. He hadn't meant it; he hadn't meant to say it to his sister…

He felt his eyes burn.

He never even got to say sorry.

He yawned, covering his mouth as he stretched, the covers dropping and pooling around his lap. He looked around the alien room, barren except for the bed that had left behind and the small desk in the opposite corner. The shades were closed, since he didn't want anyone to see him.

Human _or _alien.

Avoiding aliens was obvious. But avoiding humans? People collaborated with the aliens, looking for other people for the aliens to enslave. It was a sad and pathetic thing to do, betraying your race. But human history was full of things like that, and unity seemed to be old news.

As he put on the clothes he wore yesterday, fresh clothes he had found rummaging through the houses on 39 North Road. A lot of the houses had either been ransacked or emptied out by its owners. In a few cases, he found a body lying, killed by either the robbers or owners. He avoided those houses, unless he saw something that could be useful. But seeing the dead bodies freaked him out.

He had found a few pants, most too big for him but he used a belt to at least try and make 'em fit, and used a scissor to make them smaller. He had a few shirts, male and female, and a boots that were a size too big. He had made sure that no one would see him when he went out scavenging for things. He took anything he could find, anything that could be useful. He was a spoiled kid; he didn't know how to make a fire without a match, or how to really cook (would he have to hunt?)

He shivered as he went out, wearing a black jacket with a cap and gloves on. Even though it was summer up here, the temperature had seriously dropped, with the smoke and ashes rising into the atmosphere. The clouds were a murky color, and had an effect on his spirit.

He shivered.

He wondered how silly he looked, with a hammer he'd found (he'd found a lot of tools,) in his hand, slowly walking in the shadows or running across the street, trying to be careful not to get seen.

He felt awkward when doing it.

He wondered, though, as he ran to a house he hadn't been too before, the door still there, closed, and the windows cracked, how good would a hammer be against a Bugger, the name he called the aliens. A brief thought wondered what they called themselves, but… really, how effective? Maybe the hammer would hurt them, or knock them out, but those pincers could cut him in half, and they carried guns. Giant guns that fired bullets that would tear his arm off alone.

He gulped.

He tested the door knob, and pushed the door open-which made him nervous right there. Holding his hammer tightly, he walked in the darkened house, the light from the second floor windows, the kitchen window, and the now opened door, leaking in, giving an ominous air. In the movies, something would usually jump out and try to kill him, or the door would shut behind him with a sudden gust of wind, and he would be hunted by some monster that would try to kill him. But this wasn't a movie, and he wasn't some hero that could take down an entire army. He was just a nobody, and he couldn't do anything for anyone.

He went upstairs; to look for any sheets or clothes, maybe running water-he didn't get his hopes up- or something. He found a couple of books (romance novels-great-) a desk that he didn't need, an old TV, some pillow, but empty. He was surprised by that. Usually, in the horror movies or the after-the-end-of-the-world-movies he'd watch, houses would he crammed with stuff people left behind, like furniture and mountains of clothes and food and games and stuff.

Maybe he was just unlucky though, he thought.

He went back down, into the kitchen. He found some food, but all of it was spoiled already. He found some apples still in the shopping bag in the dining room, some cook books, and a bunch of small statues, including one of Buddha. He went downstairs, and he felt a chill go up his spine.

There was a pair of window that let in a dim bar of light on one side of the room, on his right. But even that dim bar was enough to illuminate the basement, which made it worse. The basement wasn't the prettiest thing in the world; he saw the pipes on the ceiling. He did a quick look around, saw nothing that he could use, and ran straight back upstairs.

_Click-cli-click-click-kkk-cl-ick-cl-ic-ccick…_

He froze, just as the door, his hand at the door knob, ready to open it. The chill back and he suddenly felt cold inside.

_Click-cli-click-click-kkk-cl-ick-cl-ic-ccick…_

"Fuck," he whispered.

Buggers.

His hand dropped, and the hammer hung loosely in his other hand. He shook his head and, slowly, trying not to make too much noise, made his way to a large window (without shades,) and peered through the edge.

There…

Four Buggers, skittering slowly down the street. Their backs were turned to him, and the sun seemed to reflect off their glassy shells.

_Click-cli-click_ _ick-cl-ic_ _click-kkk-cl…_

_Cl-ick-kkk-cc-iic…_

The aliens continued walking down, not realizing he was watching them. He wanted to know what they were saying. Even more so, he wanted to run out and bash their skulls in with his hammer, stab 'em in the eye with a knife, make them suffer, make them all suffer!

Yes…

SUFFER!

He watched the alien insects vanish from view the entire time. Not taking any chances of being caught and hauled off to some alien death camp, he waited to see if anymore of the aliens would come. He waited for a few minutes, but all that happened was that the dirtied clouds drifted away, and the sun vanished behind a cloud, and then reappeared afterwards.

He went back out, back against the wall of the house. He turned his head around the corner, to the street, and didn't see anything. So far, everything was going good, he was safe. He ran the down to his 'house' like a madman, wheezing by the time he threw open the door, slamming it shut behind him.

He winced at the door slammed loudly.

What if the Buggers heard that?

As a temporary measure, he locked the door.

His breathing seemed loud, and felt himself shake.

Did they hear him slam the door? As the minutes passed, each longer than the last one, he relaxed. They hadn't heard him, he was still safe. He sighed and laughed at himself.

He would live!

At least, for today. So depressing….

But beyond him, beyond his comprehension, a greater being, a being of pure power and greatness, manipulated his fate. The dawn of what would become the greatest Empire in known history, began.

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

Reed heard the 'BOOM's' before he saw them, and looked outside of the cracked window. His mouth dropped as he saw a fireball, the flames flaying around it, a strange green wisp trailing behind it. It was huge, and, to make things worse, it was coming straight at him! He screamed as he ran outside, not caring if the fucking buggers found him.

'_I DON'T WANT TO DIE!_'

The flaming ball smashed into his house, utterly obliterating it and digging into the ground, creating a jagged trench behind it.


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Stargate or any of other universes I'm going to crossover with…**

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**Reviews:**

**Hidden Sith: Thank you, and good to know you went to Spacebattles! I only posted that one chapter, but I've written more. Here's the update!**

**VexMaster: Thank you my friend!**

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**Don't forget to review! It makes me happier to get reviews! **

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**Inspired by StarGate: Galactic Imperium » by VexMaster.**

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**Please, please, please, please, PLEASE, review! Even if you hate this story and want it burned for heresy, tell me. Give me your opinions, suggestions, criticism, hate mail and fan mail! PLEASE!**

**.**

**.**

**Also read this: Clash of Empires... co-written with VexMaster.**

**Also read this: Stargate: Galactic Imperium… written by VexMaster**

**Also read this: Golden Dawn... written by Amann**

**Also read this: War of Gods and Men... written by Amann**

**Also read this: The Raid of the Twelve Colonies... written by me**

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**Go to my Forum if you have any ideas or anything you want to say!**

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_Men rise from one ambition to another: first, they seek to secure themselves against attack, and then they attack others. _

**Niccolo Machiavelli**

.

.

Colonel Emerson, the newest commander of the Battlecruiser _Prometheus _after Colonel Pendergast, Davidson, and Owen had been killed, independently, in the last month since the Attack on Earth by Anubis.

"Report."

"Sir, we have three Ha'tak's approaching the solar system sir," Major Marks announced. "They're decelerating from Hyperspace-an exit window is beginning to form near Pluto."

"Tok'ra or Jaffa?" Emerson doubted that, even as he said the words. When Anubis fled his flagship before it was destroyed, he had gone on a rampage across suspected Free Jaffa holdouts, wiping out several worlds of all life through orbital bombardment, and executing a hundred of his own Jaffa. His actions had caused many Jaffa to leave the Free Jaffa group and rejoin the Goa'uld. Through that, many more Jaffa holdouts had been discovered through the traitors, and the Jaffa who were there, executed for treason.

And the Tok'ra?

They had taken a slightly more active role. Three weeks ago, the Replicators had invaded the Galaxy, and had been stalled by Anubis and Ba'al. SG-1 had used a super weapon on Dakara (surprisingly with the help of Ba'al,) to use it to wipe out the Replicator presence in the galaxy. They had been forced to destroy it when Anubis came with his fleet, intending on capturing it. Because of that, the Tok'ra had commandeered several Ha'tak's from various Goa'uld shipyards, and used them in hit-and-run-tactics.

He crossed his arms over his chest. He had even more doubts that these were Tok'ra ships since there was already a Tok'ra Ha'tak in orbit around the planet, a Tok'ra Representative from their High Council talking with the UN Security Council. He would have been told if more Tok'ra ships were coming, and even so, why send three ships?

"No sir, they don't have Tok'ra or Jaffa FOF Tags."

He cursed.

"Bring the ship to battle alert and contact the Tok'ra ship, and see if you can hail the _Daedalus _too. Raise McMurdo Base and see if they can find someone to get in the Weapons Chair. Arm forward Railguns and unlatch Missile Launchers. Warm up the Staff Cannon array and unlock all of our Tactical Nuclear Warheads, PASSWORD: **SHIVA**. Raise shields now."

He didn't even have to say anything. His crew, so battle ready after several recent engagements with Anubis's vast fleet, hardened from so many victories as well as defeats, were like well-oiled machines. The flagship of the Tau'ri Fleet raced forward, its large sublight engines flaring a bright yellow as it increased speed, leaving the safe well of Earth as it raced out into its solar system. Behind it, the Tok'ra Ha'tak, the mark of the fallen System Lord Yu still clear on the sleek pyramid core structure, began to turn to follow the Prometheus. The Ha'tak, once the symbol of terror and Goa'uld Imperialism, it had been turned into a symbol of rebellion and freedom and of power.

"Sir, the Tok'ra Ha'tak has responded, they're reinforcing us."

'_Good._' "What of the _Daedalus_?"

"They've received the message, but they're still undergoing repairs in the Gamma Site," DeLouise announced.

Crap.

Well, Emerson reflected, he should have expected that. The _Daedalus _had taken a beating during the most recent attack on one of Anubis's Shipyards, spearheading the attack with three Jaffa Ha'tak's and several Al'kesh from the Tok'ra. Even though it was bristling with two times as many weapons as the BC-303 had, with fully integrated Asgard technology, the defense fleet at the Shipyard had been enormous and the attack had been failure and a costly one too. One Jaffa ship lost and four Al'kesh vaporized, and the _Daedalus _severely damaged. And, Emerson thought, Anubis probably launched the five Ha'tak's that they had the intent of destroying, already.

"Sir, there's something else."

Emerson was about to ask about McMurdo. "What?"

"A fourth craft, it dropped out of Hyperspace moments before the Ha'tak's... and it's being fired on!"

"What? Can you identify it," he demanded.

"Sensors aren't clear at this range... no, wait. Sir, it's an Al'kesh bomber."

"Hail the Al'kesh!"

"Online sir."

~_This Colonel Emerson of the United States Starship Prometheus of Earth Fleet. Identify yourself and your intentions. You have entered Earth's defense perimeter. If you do not comply, we will fire upon you_. ~

The viewscreen faded away, giving way to a man, an elderly man with graying hair and brown eyes. He had a gash on his head, blood dripping from it. ~_This is Korra of the Tok'ra High Coun...~_ the transmission became garbled.

"DeLouise?"

"Nothing wrong with our comm. Array," he said, "It's from the Al'kesh."

"Run a systems wide check; look for any viruses that might have been sent-"

The Tok'ra returned. _~I am in need of help! Please, I have a device of great... zzz ... shields failing, and I have lost weapons. My host is dying... zzz ... cannot withstand their bolts anymore... ~_

The Tok'ra Councilor vanished, and replaced by the Al'kesh swerving wildly as the three Goa'uld Ha'tak's bearing the Mark of Ba'al-overlapped with the Mark of Anubis-fired on it. "Target the primary Ha'tak," Emerson ordered. "Get their attentions, and cover that Al'kesh. Contact the Tok'ra Ha'tak and have them pick the Al'kesh up."

"Yes sir."

The weapons on the Battlecruiser erupted to life. Explosive shells laced with Naquadah cores shot out first from the Railgun batteries. Named Lucifer Shells, they exploded on the golden shields of the lead Ha'tak, interrupting its next salvo. Four Staff Cannons, constructed by the scientists in the R&D Department in Area 51 after being given permission to study the Tok'ra and Jaffa Ha'tak's, spat out golden blasts, smashing and spreading harmlessly across the enhanced shields of Anubis warships. The Ha'tak turned its focus away from the damaged Al'kesh, and turned to focus on the annoying insect. Several Naquadah-enhanced Nuclear Warheads raced out and their engines activated, sending the warheads towards the Ha'tak. "Launch squadrons," Emerson ordered as he took his seat, his pilot slowing down as the Al'kesh surged forward.

Two of the Ha'tak's slowed down and focused their attention on the lone Earth ship. Golden energy bolts smashed and splashed on the Asgard shields, draining them significantly with each hit. The Jaffa commanders on board the Ha'tak's, fanatic to their Great and Glorious God Anubis, couldn't overcome their desire to please their God by destroying the most famous plague-ship against him.

If they did, then they would, in their minds, be showered with great gifts by their great Lord-God. The other Ha'tak meanwhile turned around the gray-hulled ship and resumed following the Al'kesh, taking pot shots due to the distance between the two crafts. With the Ha'tak's superior speed, however, the gap between the two between the lessen, and the bolts began to come closer and closer to the damaged bomber.

Ripping out of Hyperspace, the Tok'ra Ha'tak bombarded the Goa'uld Ha'tak, smashing their shields with a fury of bolts. Wings of Death Gliders and Al'kesh rushed out of both crafts, staff cannon blasts crisscrossing space as the two Ha'tak's engaged in a deadly dance of death and destruction.

The F-302's fought a lost battle against the Death Gliders launched by the two opposing Ha'tak's. Outnumbered 3-1, the two Earth Fighter-Interceptor squadrons held their own despite the odd.

Even so, friendly fire on both sides struck their fighters out.

Finally, the shields of the lead Ha'tak collapsed, the armor on the golden pyramid tearing the sheets apart. Blooms of fire and shrapnel erupted on the hull of the pyramid, burying deeper and deeper into the main structure.

"Evasive maneuvers, now," Emerson shouted as Marks shouted that the shields had dropped below 64%.

The _Prometheus_'s powerful engines roared as the ship moved below the damaged Ha'tak, the upper weapons that had been put evenly on the hull came to life at once. "We've hit the reactor!"

Emerson flinched. That was good, yes, but.... "How many fighters are still out there?"

"Three."

He felt torn. But he owed a greater duty.

"Get us out of here," Emerson ordered he said at last.

"Yes sir."

"Jump-space, now, the Tok'ra Ha'tak!"

A Hyperspace window quickly formed in front of the _Prometheus_, and the Battlecruiser accelerated, rushing into the window, the Hyperspace window shutting close behind it. Seconds later, the _Prometheus _roared out of Hyperspace above the Goa'uld Ha'tak engaging the Tok'ra Ha'tak. Behind it, far behind in terms of a few hundred kilometers, one of the Goa'uld Ha'tak's exploded, knocking the shields off its companion, and damaging its outer superstructure. "Status of the Tok'ra Al'kesh," Emerson barked.

"It's nearing Earth but..."

Emerson heard uncertainty. "What, what's wrong?"

"Sir, I am reading some strange readings… some sort of energy field, similar to a disruptor field sir. Our sensor can't determine what it is. The field surrounds the entire Al'kesh and its beginning to affect our sensors, sir. I don't think it is dangerous… for us in any case."

The _Prometheus _blasted the Goa'uld Ha'tak with the help of the Tok'ra Ha'tak. Shields already gone from its engagement with its twin, the Ha'tak exploded in a bloom of fire.

"Beam the Councilor out," Emerson ordered.

"Sir, I can't get a lock, the field's blocking the beaming lock."

"Focus viewscreen on the Al'kesh."

"Yes sir."

The Viewscreen changed, and he saw a magnified image of the Al'kesh in real-time. Then suddenly, it seemed to shimmer, and a crisscross of intersecting and bisecting lines appeared, a multitude of colors that shifted constantly… and after a moment, it disappeared from sight. He heard a cry and demands aimed at him from the Tok'ra Ha'tak, about the suddenly vanished Ha'tak.

He could only say one thing.

"What on Earth?"

**.**

**.**

The Tok'ra Korra worried for his host Falle, even though he himself was severely hurt. His host, for nearly one hundred years (and not his first) was dying. Despite the Tok'ra's best efforts, the wounds the Falle suffered for him were not healing. Even though it was quite obvious that the wounds would not be healed, he did not care.

Caring for others, the host they stared a symbiotic bond with, came natural and was pure instinct. It separated them from the arrogant Goa'uld who used their hosts as mere tools and vessels for themselves. But he could not deny that Falle was dying, and not even if Korra gave up his life, could his host survive his severe injuries. He felt pained for Falle who was certainly suffering quietly.

His brief engagement with the Anubis Guards had been an unnecessary obstacle, but it was his impatience that had alerted them to his presence in the Flagship of Ba'al. An iron bar had been shoved into his body, narrowly missing Korra, but causing irreversible damage to Falle. He heard the quiet screams his host held in, trying to take notice off him, but Korra was too wise and too old to ignore them.

He tried to ease the pain as best as he could.

He could tell his host wanted to die a quick dead, but the both of them knew of the importance they had now with them. They had to live, _he_ _had _to. The message he carried, the object he carried with him in the back of the cockpit of the powerful but damaged Al'kesh was of great importance!

His shields shuddered. He had emerged out of Hyperspace in the Tau'ri system, but so had the three Ha'tak that had followed him. What accursed luck. He increased power sent into the shields, and stopped the flow of energy to the underside ball-mounted staff cannons, pushing them into the sublight engines.

_**'We are being hailed,' **_Falle thought slowly.

Korra winced. On the viewscreen, he saw the Tau'ri warship, the _Prometheus_, come closer to him at incredible speed. ~_This Colonel Emerson of the United States Starship Prometheus of Earth Fleet. Identify yourself and your intentions. You have entered Earth's defense perimeter. If you do not comply, we will fire upon you_. ~

Korra returned the hail, composing himself as best as he could, and hid the bandaged area where the bar once been from the viewscreen. He didn't try to cover the gash on his head, however.

**"This is Korra of the Tok'ra High Council; I come bearing a item of great importance to the Tau'ri and the survival of our races! I urge you, for I am in need of help! Please, I have a device of great importance. The Al'kesh, the shields failing, and I have lost weapons. My host is dying and-" **he cringed as he was thrown forward a bit, the shields straining as another hit from the trio of Ha'tak's smashing on his vessel. **"Please, I cannot withstand their bolts anymore, I require help!"**

On the viewscreen, he saw the somewhat effective weapons on the Tau'ri Battlecruiser fired on his pursuers.

As he piloted the Al'kesh closer to the Tau'ri planet, he felt rejoice as a Tok'ra Ha'tak joined the battle, engaging the third Ha'tak which had ignored the threat presented by the Tau'ri vessel, focusing on him. That focus changed to the greater threat, the Ha'tak. He typed in the coordinates to the Tau'ri Stargate Command, and began to charge the cloaking device. Suddenly the Al'kesh quivered, and he felt fear, but that fear vanished when he didn't see anything behind him. He ran a system's check, and found that he was leaking oxygen from the troop transport section of the large craft.

"**Blasted Jaffa,**" Korra snarled, coughing. He sealed the doors leading to the section. He covered his mouth with the sleeve of the elaborate suit he'd worn to infiltrate Ba'al's Flagship, a habit he developed from his host. His eyes widened as he saw a tiny splotches of blood on it, and he coughed again, more blood dripping from his... From Falle's, mouth.

He felt sickened and horrified at the same time.

Suddenly the stars began to change. He was bewildered as he saw massive ships hovering above the planet, flickering on and off like lights. He leaned forward, regretting the action as a lash of pain struck him and Falle. He gasped, and his vision blurred a bit. That only seemed to make things stranger as he saw Earth's surface a smoldering husk of angry red and black. The strange ships, bulky but somehow sleek at the same time-a contradiction right there-seemed more defined, more 'there.' Tiny crafts, some not bigger than an Al'kesh, and some many times larger, flew patterns in space. None of the ships seemed to notice him, and he didn't recognize their design.

They clearly didn't resemble Goa'uld ships, and they were somewhat similar to Earth ships, but they were far less advanced if his sensors were correct, and they were much larger than anything the Tau'ri could ever hope to create so long as they kept themselves secret from the rest of the planet. Something compelled him to look behind him at the object behind him, and he looked behind him. For a moment, he thought the crystalline surface of the mirror had rippled, but he didn't see anything. He shook his head.

"**Where are we,**" Korra said hoarsely as his host asked the same thing, worried and feeling more and more nervously and agitated. He saw Earth again, the ships missing, but then they reappeared.

There was a bright flash, and he closed his eyes. Even so, he the light was so bright, he saw it through his shut eyelids.

He opened his eyes again, and the ships were there in orbit.

And stayed there.

'_What is going on?_' His host thought.

"**I do not know,**" Korra whispered, horrified by the surface of Earth.

The Al'kesh continued forward, and he deleted his coordinates, taking control. The planet's rotation had changed, and he found himself starting at a different part of the continental mass known as 'North America.'

He tried to hail one of the orbiting crafts, but he didn't get a respond. Actually, he didn't even get the slightest sublight connection. It was as if these aliens in orbit around this... Earth.... didn't have access to subspace, which was what most space faring races had access to. Suddenly one of the larger crafts, a saucer shaped-ship with a squat pyramid on the spine, appeared, rising from below the Al'kesh.

It took the entire viewscreen and he paled. He swerved below the massive craft, and sped closer to Earth. At long last, the cloak was charged, and he activated it. The device flickered, and the Al'kesh seemed to wave, waves ripping down from the top of the Al'kesh until it vanished from view.

Only a tiny shift of light gave away the cloaked Al'kesh. Korra coughed again, and felt a little of himself wither away. Before he could spend some time with his host, what little time, sadly, they had left, the large bomber quivered.

'_**What now?**_' Korra thought painfully. He checked, and saw that they had begun to enter the planet's atmosphere. The shields flared, the Al'kesh visible at times when the cloak failed every handful of seconds.

The Al'kesh shuddered as fires began to enveloped the cloaked craft, encasing it in a ball of flickering fire, of burning flames.

His eyes widened as some of the flames died away and saw himself heading for a crashing into a row of houses, each of them abandoned. His chest slammed into the console in front of him, and his head nearly smashed into the viewscreen. He coughed, splitting blood on the viewscreen. The Al'kesh rumbled as it dug into the ground, smashing the houses as fires erupted around the homes.

He groaned as he fell back on his chair, clutching his chest as a fire erupted in his chest, and his vision blurred, and his eyes burned. It hurt... it hurt so much. He coughed, and felt his stomach turn over. Why, why had it all changed? Why was everything so different than what he was used to?

What had happened to Earth, who did these ships belong to? How, with such primitive systems and defenses, been able to overcome the Tau'ri-Tok'ra-Jaffa Alliance? A thought struck and, dreading the answer for what it might bring, he turned around and saw the mirror, the crystalline-surfaced mirror, still strapped to the side of the Al'kesh.

Realization dawned on him as the surface glowed for the briefest second, and relaxed. The mirror had activated: This was Earth yes, but not his Earth, a completely different Earth, an alternate version, a alternate reality.

One where it had been ruined by war and invasion, completely useless!

He felt dread wash down on him, and felt anger at his stupidity, at such stupidity!

He activated the scanner, and searched the planet for the Naquadah signature that the Stargate was composed of. To his suffering, the Stargate didn't appear to be here. Either Ra had taken it when he fled Earth during the ancient uprising, or the Stargate had never been placed here, and never existed. Meaning that his people… that the Goa'uld and other species in the galaxy, did not exist.

He realized that he was a dead man and his message would not reach the Tau'ri or any of his allies. He felt sadness and felt what was left of his host slowly begin to die away. Suddenly, he heard a sound. A knock, a soft knock, echo in the cockpit of the Al'kesh bomber-transport. Dragging himself by the sheer force of his will, Korra opened the hatch, and exited the ship and crumpled into the mound of scorched gravel right outside the door.

BAM!

Korra gasped and wheezed as an object hit him on his chest, and he screamed, coughing blood and yellow fluid. He clutched his chest, his heart beating faster and faster. His host, Falle, was urging him to save himself. '_I am not important-the knowledge you contain is of greater importance than I,_' he thought, pleading to his symbiote. '_All that you are, all that you know and will be, is more important that anything than I can hope to achieve. For the survival of all races, for freedom, __**you **__must live, not I. Please Korra, I beg you..._'

Falle was in severe pain, was screaming in his mind, barely holding down the pain that threatened to overwhelm Korra.

"Oh my- I'm sorry!"

**.**

**.**

Reed was awed and shocked when the man, wearing regal robes like a Emperor of a long past age, from pictures he'd seen on the Internet and history books, fell out. He wore a black robe with golden trim, and a silver belt that a buckle with a ornate symbol, that looked a bit familiar. Freaked out and scared that the man had come out of nowhere, from midair, he swung a branch he'd picked up, hitting him in the chest. The man screamed and vomited, blood and some kind of yellow fluid. He gazed up at Reed, pained and hurt. Reed felt horrified by what he had done. "Oh my-I'm sorry!" He said, kneeling, careful not to touch the vomit. He helped the man to his feet, and the man leaned on him a bit, his feet shaking. "Are you okay," he said a bit lamely, "well, I mean..." Stupid question. The man was bleeding and he had hit him with a branch. Of _course _he wasn't okay.

"**Yes... child...**"

Reed almost let go of the man, if the man wasn't clutch on his clothes. The voice-it had an echo! Just like the Goa'uld from Stargate! "What the hell are you," Reed demanded, even though the man didn't look strong enough to fight a little kid. "What's with your voice, and what's with your clothes?" Now that he realized it, the clothes looked like something a System Lord would wear. Something that Ba'al would have worn, if his memory was still good. Yeah, he realized, the robe, trimming, the expensive look.

All of it, especially the strange markings, shouted **Goa'uld**.

**"Please...**" the man begged hoarsely, turning his head to him. Reed took a few steps back, and the man let go. The man staggered forward, but caught himself, and stood up, wobbly. The cut on his head had stopped bleeding, and Reed could see that it was healing already. **"Please... you must help me..." **The Goa'uld, that was obvious now, seemed pathetic. But then again, Reed thought, what if this wasn't a Goa'uld? What if it was a Tok'ra? But how could he know for sure? What if it really was a Goa'uld?

"Who _are _you?"

"**I… am Korra of the Tok'ra,**" he choked, his voice full of pain as he talked "**one of their many spies within the Goa'uld Empire. I need to deliver a message and a warning… to the people of **_**my **_**reality, to Earth.... ach... my host… is dying… Please,**" he looked to Reed, pain and hope in his eyes, "**I beg of you… merge with me and allow me to deliver the message, and in failing that... for **_**you **_**to deliver the message to the Tau'ri. I promise I will… leave you when I have delivered the message.**" If _he _survived, Reed thought. This didn't seem to be likely considering how much the Tok'ra seemed to have gone through.

But....

No, what if this really was a Goa'uld? Normally, Reed would have been freaked out and ran away. But with real life aliens invading... killing his family... killing everyone actually... this wasn't so strange. But something else also made Reed stay. It was as if fate had brought the Tok'ra here? What if fate was giving him a chance to _be_ somebody, to make an impact on his world, and on others? What if fate was giving what he needed to become more than just an orphaned teenager, giving him power?

He, like everyone else, craved power.

Still, even if this was a Goa'uld, he wouldn't beg for help. The Goa'uld could have just leaped out of his old host and into him when Reed had helped him up, as a new host. He thought about power, and he decided to take the risk. He was probably being stupid, but... "I'll do it. Just... don't make it hurt."

The Tok'ra smiled a bit and opened his mouth. Reed quivered, disgusted that his mouth would be so close to another guy's mouth. But he took a few steps forward and his mouth was just close enough for the Tok'ra to leap out and into Reed. Reed gagged as he fell back, coughing. His throat burned, and he felt his heat beat faster and faster. He felt something slid down the back of his neck and around it, and he panicked. Suddenly the light seemed brighter and clearer, and everything seemed to me more defined. Sounds and colors seemed brighter, and every little detail seemed more... enhanced. He suddenly felt better, stronger, and his thoughts became more organized.

Then he heard a voice in his head: '_**Thank you... Alexander for this.**_**'**

Suddenly he felt pain his head, and he saw visions, rather memories, that weren't his. He fell to his knees, and clutched his head, biting down on his lip and drawing a drop of blood. God, the pain! Korra spoke quickly, soothing his panic. '_**Do not panic Alexander. However... I cannot survive even in your undamaged body. The damage to me is too severe, even for me to heal. It is surprising, Alexander, that even though you do not have a Stargate Program... you knows so much about us...**_**'**

Reed tried to sort out the memories as they flashed before his eyes. He saw Tok'ra fighting Jaffa, staff blasts and zat bursts crisscrossing in crystal tunnels, saw various operations work and fail. He saw vast fleets of Ha'tak's bombard each other as a Tok'ra plan to ignite a war between two System Lords worked. He saw, or rather heard the news that Ra had been killed, and then the arrival of SG-1 (just like in the series!) and the return of Anubis. He saw the death of Apophis, and the attack by the Replicators. Suddenly, he saw a mirror, the device that had brought the Tok'ra from another universe to his own reality, to his Earth by pure mistake. He barely recognized the device.

A Quantum mirror.

It had Goa'uld symbols, but it had engraved symbols at its sides with golden fillings, and the mark of.... Ba'al on it. It was a device created by Anubis... and there was one more that Anubis had. He felt sickened as more memories flashed by, the stench of burned flesh, the screams of Tok'ra as they were left behind to fight legions of Jaffa. The torture Korra underwent when he had been captured during a mission. The fear when he saw the return of the Anubis Guards and the brutal fighting on Dakara.

He frowned.

Anubis Guards?

The Destruction of the Dakara Super weapon?

'_**I give my thanks you, Alexander Reed,**_**'** the Tok'ra said, '_**It is quite surprising that you seem to have impressive knowledge of our universe… ah, most intriguing! You must warn the Tau'ri of what Anubis has planned; this device is one of two the two System Lords possess. It was their plan that, when they finished conquering the galaxy, they would be able to expand outward into other realities. Anubis has his on board his own flagship-you must tell the Tau'ri and their allies to destroy that mirror. The Fate of multiple realities depend on it, the fate of all free beings depend on them receiving this message.**_**'**

Ba'al was alive, still?

_**'Stargate Continuum... by the Ancients... so that is how Ba'al dies.' **_The Tok'ra sounded happy. _'__**However... several of the Tok'ra there are already dead...**_**'**

So things were different in his universe?

"I promise," Alexander said, "To deliver the message."

'_**I give my thanks once more, Alexander. I cannot yet believe how incredible… our existence… the Goa'uld… we all mere fantasies, thoughts of fiction. All of our events are simply fabricated by people, yet to us, they are real life. It is amazing, and yet saddening. Yet it is pleasurable to know that the downfall of the Goa'uld is inevitable. However these Ori... these Wraiths... such threats that exist, greater than that of the Goa'uld... and the Tau'ri... such power they possess...**_**'**

Alexander nodded absentminded.

'_**My time here is short: I have given you all that I know so you can steal Anubis of his prize. Anubis cannot be allowed to expand his Empire beyond his dimension, the terror he would inflict… Please… the fate of realities… of entire galaxies…. they all depend upon… you…**_**'**

"I will not fail."

'_**For the sake of many, you cannot. The era… of False Gods… not… continue on… cannot…**_**'**

Alexander flinched as he felt a strange tingle, and a lance of pain, strike from his neck throughout his body. He knew, he knew Korra was sacrificing himself so he would survive. It was a trait that Tok'ra had, that was built into their DNA to become them the opposite of the selfish Goa'uld, a trait, an act of natural instinct put in them by their Queen, the Queen of which all Tok'ra came from.

He felt Korra slip away, slowly, bringing forth all of the knowledge that he had on everything that he knew, which was centuries of knowledge, into the front of his mind. He lacked, however, specialized technology of the Goa'uld and how to build ships, and many other key pieces of knowledge.

He'd get them one way or another.

'_**You must… destroy the device once have destroyed the other one… No one else can gain this… this power…**_**'**

Alexander froze. Destroy the mirror, the key to his rise to power? As soon as he thought those words, he tried to cover them up, but Korra had already heard them and he felt shock. _**'Do not think like that! This device, the Quantum Mirror as you call it-it is far too dangerous for anyone to have, to possess Alexander! Its power, it is too great. I implore you-'**_

"It's the key to my power," Reed said aloud. "I am the person in which will unite all galaxies, wipe out the Goa'uld threat, wipe out all enemies to peace and unity and justice and of equality! Can't you accept that, Korra? I will do what the Tok'ra have always wanted, but have never had numbers to do so. I will do what is needed for every reality!"

He could sense Korra struggling, seeing the logic in his words, and the corruption he felt the Mirror would bring. Suddenly he felt Korra dive deep into his mind, and see his plans. Despite the truth in his words, he saw the way he intended to accomplish them, the force and death that he would be forced to bring to accomplish them. Alexander felt pure horror rise in Korra as he pulled out, and tried to calm the panicking Tok'ra down. "No, wait! You don't understand-!"

_**'I cannot allow it! This mirror will be the gateway to your Empire, an Empire that you plan on using to make yourself known, to give yourself power to do anything you want! You are no better than a Goa'uld!' **_And then he felt a throbbing pain in his head. He didn't understand why Korra was rejecting his idea.

What he was going to do was going to make a better dimension, for quadrillions of people across dozens of universes! Maybe it was because of how he was going to do it. But even so, people had to die in order for peace and order to be done... Suddenly he fell to his knees, the throbbing pain becoming all the more painful.

"Gah!"

Korra was trying to stop his sacrifice, to recall the memories he had let go. But he could not, and Alexander felt his head throb painfully. It was impossible to get back memories without the use of devices. The Tok'ra used all of its might to leap out with everything he knew, to stop the plans, the ideas', however idealistic they were, of a mad man happen. Because he fought his own sacrifice, the painful sacrifice was made only worse as he extended it. The Tok'ra was dying, and he couldn't fight for long. It was impossible to fight what he had already started, and the Tok'ra knew it which made him fight harder, which accelerated his now certain death, a certainty at any rate.

Alexander screamed.

After a few minutes of intense pain, of unbearable burning pain in his chest, head, throat and, in fact, his entire body, Korra died, and the pain dissipated. Alexander felt something ball up in his throat, something slick and immobile. His body immediately reacted and he vomited. His stomach ached, and he felt strange. His body tinged, and his stomach calmed down. His vision blurred slightly, and then cleared up. But god… he felt so _tired_. But then his tiredness went away.

Alexander felt sorry for the Tok'ra. But he had resisted, and he was the second casualty of what was going to be the path to unity and equality. After all, all good paths were paved with bad intentions.

But his time was here.

"My Empire," he declared as he looked to the cloaked Al'kesh, "begins now."


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Stargate or any of other universes I'm going to crossover with…**

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**Reviews:**

**John777: Thank you.**

**The Hidden Sith: Ah yes thank you. I worked with VexMaster closely in this revised version since there were so many things wrong with the previous version. I am happy that you find this new version of Reed more likeable than the previous incarnation, and that you enjoyed the Bugger attack. **

**Soulless Reader: Oh I hope I live up to expectations. **

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**Don't forget to review! It makes me happier to get reviews! **

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**Inspired by StarGate: Galactic Imperium » by VexMaster.**

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**Please, please, please, please, PLEASE, review! Even if you hate this story and want it burned for heresy, tell me. Give me your opinions, suggestions, criticism, hate mail and fan mail! PLEASE!**

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**Also read this: Clash of Empires... co-written with VexMaster.**

**Also read this: Stargate: Galactic Imperium… written by VexMaster**

**Also read this: Golden Dawn... written by Amann**

**Also read this: War of Gods and Men... written by Amann**

**Also read this: The Raid of the Twelve Colonies... written by me**

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**Go to my Forum if you have any ideas or anything you want to say!**

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_Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall._

**William Shakespeare**  
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Several thoughts dawned on Reed as he explored the large Al'kesh. It was larger than he had ever expected it to be, but he didn't get lost once. Some of Korra's memories were fuzzy, mucked from his attempts to take them back. But he knew enough. His first thought was to do what Korra wanted him to do. Anubis, other than possibly the Ori and the Super-Hive ship, was the most potent threat to every reality he went to. He had to stop Anubis from using the mirror, even if Korra had been against him.

He put new clothes that were a little big for him, but they fitted on him quite nicely. His clothes were similar to what Apophis wore after he had escaped from Sokar. The only difference was that it was black and gold, and there were two metal greaves. The robe covered his entire body with a hood to cover his face. He covered the top half of his face, not wanting people to see him so sick-looking.

He thought he looked good, though.

He briefly wondered why the Tok'ra had so many clothes on the Al'kesh when memories swam into the front of his head.

Korra was walking in a corridor on an outpost of Ba'al's, one that had been attacked by Earth not long after this memory. Jaffa and a few Kull Warriors were walking into the corridor patrolling the halls with staffs in hands. Two Jaffa blocked Korra's path. "Where do you think you are going," one of the Jaffa, a tall man who was missing his left eye, growled. He was at least a head bigger than Korra.

Korra's eyes glowed.

**"You **_**dare **_**speak to your God in such a way? Be punished for your crimes," **Korra roared, the Tok'ra symbiote taking cover as he raised his Kara Kesh and began torturing the tall Jaffa in the middle of the hallway. Other Jaffa looked briefly and then went their way, their pace quickening.

"No my God," the Jaffa moaned. "No, please!"

Alexander pulled himself out his daze.

Costumes-these clothes were costumes. He shouldn't be surprised, however. Commandos and Special Operative Teams did the same thing, especially during World War 2. Germany SS Units, during the Battle of the Bulge, dressed up as US Soldiers and destroyed Tanks, transports and more, and almost cost the US the battle to the Nazi's. Obviously, the Tok'ra did the same thing. They just took it a step up because a single Goa'uld was worth a thousand Hitler's, maybe even more which scared him.

He narrowed his eyes.

He also found a Kara Kesh, stolen from Ba'al (he chuckled at that,) in the large closet. He slid over his skin, shivering involuntarily as the cold metallic spirals touched his skin. The large red crystal glowed as it hovered over his palm, detecting the Naquadah in his blood, and reacting the way it should to him. He flexed his fingers. Pleased, he looked himself over and threw his cape behind his shoulders. The inside of the cape was a blood red color, complementing the black and gold that he wore over his body. It was a sharp contrast, but a pleasing one at that, he had to admit.

He also was surprised by the contents of the Al'kesh. While the Tok'ra had costumes in it, they didn't seem… right. His memories, Korra's memories actually, didn't agree with that. The Al'kesh was dramatically altered. He found almost a hundred suits of Jaffa armor, black with red edges, in another closet opposite of the one with the Goa'uld suits. What was strange, however, was that there was a single suit on the Goa'uld equivalent to a mannequin. It had the helmet of an Anubis Guard, and some elements of the body plating of the Jaffa armor. But it shared similarities with Kull Armor.

Upon finding it, he had placed the breastplate under his robes, as well as the pants and the shin guards, knee plating, and thigh armor's. He covered it all with a Jaffa commander's tunic, a black-colored chainmail suit.

Going to the back to where he _knew _the armory was, he found a multitude of Staff Weapons and Zat Guns, and even two Staff Cannons! Even more, he found a pile of Tok'ra Crystals, the same used to make their tunnels.

These were Korra's.

He found what Korra's memories told him were an Asgard Beaming Device as well as a few ingots of a Neutronium and refined Trinium. He found several versions of the Goa'uld crate that contained weapons-grade Naquadah.

His eyes widened at that.

All of this was _surely _fate at work! Everything here, he could use it _all _to start his Empire here, to begin a military force greater than anything! But even more, he was now certain that fate was on his side as he went to the very back of the Al'kesh. Instead of an area to hold Stargate's like in the series, he found something far more useful. Cloning pods, five of them, strapped to the wall. On the walls were several rows of DNA Samples, which Korra's memories told him were samples of the most elite Jaffa within Anubis's Empire. In fact, this ship was Ba'al's secret transport.

He knew Ba'al, like all Goa'uld, wouldn't be happy to serve under someone unless he served himself. With the Quantum Mirror at his side, and all of this, he had planned to escape to another reality to build himself his own Empire. It was ingenious, but useless now that _he _had Ba'al's Al'kesh.

He laughed.

Walking back to the cockpit of the Al'kesh, he looked out and saw the burning bodies of Korra and Falle. He felt sad for them, but he comforted himself as best as he could that their deaths would be the basis for their dream. But with the limited knowledge he had, it wouldn't be enough, sadly enough. He wouldn't be able to overthrow the Bugger's without bigger and better guns. One Al'kesh couldn't overthrow an entire occupation force of aliens and their giant starships. Those things were so huge; you could see them clearly even from the ground. Large black dots in the sky, but still….

Maybe he could take out a few of their larger air-cruisers, and their fighters of course. The Air-Cruisers would be trouble, and he'd probably die trying to do that. But their larger ships, he couldn't do that unless he got lucky. But he hoped his plan, if it worked, would solve that somewhat soon.

Sitting in the pilot seat, he activated the engines.

He shouldn't know how to use the Al'kesh, but the memories he had from Korra made using the Al'kesh child play for him. The four rear engines, tiny when compared to the larger bomber-transport, glowed a bright blue, the Al'kesh appearing briefly as the shields rose and he directed the engines forward.

The underside of the Al'kesh scrapped the ground, shaking it slightly before it moved upwards and into the sky. The cloak failed briefly but activated again. The light distorted around the edges of the Al'kesh, bending the light. There was glimmer where the Al'kesh was as it rose higher and higher.

Suddenly the Al'kesh plummeted a bit, and he panicked.

He checked the readings on the Al'kesh, and felt his heart break. God damn it! The Al'kesh was way too damaged for it to be of any use for him. He cursed his luck-the Al'kesh wouldn't be flying soon. And that meant he couldn't give Korra's message to SG-Earth or any of her rallies any time soon.

With reluctance, he flew the Al'kesh away from the crash site, long-range sensors indicating that a dozen Bugger aircraft were inbound.

He flew the lumbering Al'kesh, and activated the scanners for a local area, just around the town.

He needed to find a place where there were other people, people that could help him. He intended to do that with other species, but for the moment, he was stuck here. He needed people to follow him, to become the basis for his Empire. But with so many houses abandoned where he used to live, so many people having left their homes for military installations which were probably the 1st targets for the Bugger attack (alien invasion movies made that clear,) he doubted there would be anyone-

.

**Eight bio-signs detected**

.

He couldn't believe his luck. Eight people were a small amount yeah, but it was still _people_ for god sakes! The house wasn't that far, and as he came closer to it, he saw that it was resting on a small hill on the skirts of the town. His first thought was that the hill would be perfect place to use the Tok'ra Crystals.

Carefully, he maneuvered the Al'kesh, a bet clumsily despite the knowledge crammed into his head, and landed just next to the house. Wind slammed into the house as he eased the Al'kesh down, and he saw aflutter from the inside of the house, from the shades that covered the windows. He killed the engines when he properly 'parked,' and diverted as much power as he could to the cloaking device.

However, no matter how much he wanted to go out and see the people, real people since this all started, he _had _to take precautions. Making sure his armor was hidden underneath his robes, and that no one would see, it quickly walked back to the armory and grabbed to Zat guns, activating them. Aiming them both at the walls, he fired once; testing them just to make sure they worked.

Strapping the two weapons to his waist, he made sure the ruby in the center of his Kara Kesh was still glowing. If it wasn't, then the Kara Kesh would become useless to him. He didn't want to use it, but he had to plan that the people in the house wouldn't follow him, even with all of his technology and knowledge.

'_Which would be dumb,_' he thought, '_since in order to liberate our world from the Buggers, they need me. And from that,_' he planned, '_the basis for my Empire will begin. This world will be the start of all that comes._'

As an afterthought, he grabbed a handful of Tok'ra Crystals and slid them into the pockets of his pants.

_Knock!_

_Knock!_

_Knock!_

Alexander paused as he heard the soft knocking on the hull of the Al'kesh. Walking back to the cockpit, he looked at the viewscreen and saw a young child and a young man, around his age he guessed, shocked and with eyes wide. The kid had black hair and brown eyes, and was skinny for his age. The older teenager had black hair too, but with green eyes, and he was just a bit lighter than the child.

Maybe they weren't related?

So, at least he knew two people from the eight in the house. He wondered who else was in the house. The child seemed to enjoy knocking on the wall of the cloaked Al'kesh, hitting it with a stick he had in his hand. He laughed, while the teenager still had the look of awe in his face, and fear in his eyes.

He could definitely use that.

He cleared his throat, and walked to the door of the Al'kesh, opening the hatch as a ramp lowered from the walls. Making sure his back was erect, and he tried to make himself as imposing as possible, he walked down the ramp, and saw the child and the young man waiting for him.

He stood against the dark interior of the Al'kesh, the lights dim. His figure just stood out enough from the darkness. His white face stood out from the darkness he wore and that was around him. He walked with a purposely slow stride, enjoying the looks of shock as the teen pulled the kid closer to him, taking a few steps back. In a voice he hoped was loud and commanding, he said: "Do not fear me," he said as he split his cape, tossing it behind him as they stared at his expensive clothes. "You have nothing to fear from me, for I am the savior and liberator."

The teen was awestruck. "Wha-wha-wha-"

"What am I? Who am I?" Reed said as he stopped in front of the teenager. He was a bit annoyed to find that he was just around the same size with the other. But then again, they were (supposedly,) the same age so… "What I am is nothing different than you. Yet who I am… I am the person, the one person who can liberate our world, can liberate all of mankind, from the tyranny of the aliens who impose their rule on us. I am the man who will destroy the old, and bring forth the new!"

He finished with a roar, spreading his arms out as the teen stepped back even more, scared by the sudden action. He lowered his arms, and tilted his head a bit. "And yet, I am one man who cannot accomplish so much alone." He hoped he was laying it on too thick. "Who is the eldest of your group?"

"E-Eldest?" The teen choked.

Reed almost nodded.

"There are eight of you within this house. Who is the eldest?"

"M-My father is."

Reed thought about it. "Who else is with you?" He dropped his guise for the moment, unable to go on.

"My sister, Astrid, my other little brother Henry and my Mom," the teen said. "And then there's Darby and Jack Manning, two people my Dad took in when all of this started," he sounded a bit bitter at this. "This is Kurt, by the way, and I'm John," he added, almost as an afterthought.

"A pleasure," he said curtly. Confident of his armor's ability to protect him, he turned around, the hatch closing behind him. He began the short walk to the house's front door when he heard John call him.

"Hey, wait! You can't go in there!"

"Why?" Reed asked making sure the hood covered the top portion of his face. He didn't want anyone to see him for the moment.

"Well…"

"I shall see you inside, presumably."

Dismissing the teenager, who was probably getting over his shock and getting pissed at being tossed aside, Reed paused in front of the door, deciding on what to do. Should he knock, or just walking in, announcing himself as soon as he came in-or he should walk up to the father without announcing himself. He barely paused when the door opened, and he found himself staring into the barrel of a shotgun.

"Who the hell are you?"

The man who said that was a man with black hair, strands of gray hair gathering just above his ears. He had blue eyes, and he had stubble of a beard around his mouth. He had bags under his eyes, and he looked tired. But in his eyes, Reed saw a fire. When he didn't get a response immediately, he asked again, louder and sharper.

"I said," he said angrily. "Who the _hell _are you?"

Reed composed himself.

"The Emperor," he said simply.

"Are you working for 'em?" He demanded.

The man seriously thought he worked for the _aliens_? He was about to say know when John ran up behind him with Kurt.

"Dad, he came in an invisible ship! He's working for the aliens," he shouted. Reed narrowed his eyes as he raised his right hand, activating the personal shield on the Kara Kesh. Behind the dad, he saw a young woman, presumably Astrid, run down the stairs, pausing at the last step when she saw him.

He had to admit, she was beautiful.

At the same time the father pulled the trigger, the semi-invisible golden shield burst from his Kara Kesh and enveloped him in a cylinder shield. The bullets shattered into tiny shards as they smashed into his personal shield. Before the man could pump the shotgun and fire again, Reed paralyzed the man with his Kara Kesh. Twitching as he froze, the father fell back, his daughter grabbing before his head on the wooden floor.

"You bastard!" She screamed.

He heard someone run up behind him and activated his shield again, turning around quickly and raising his Kara Kesh. Not wanting to test if his shield would hold back the impact of the teenager, he fired a kinetic wave. An invisible shot burst from the blood jewel and pushed the teen back, slamming him into the fence. The little brother, Kurt, shouted and ran over to his brother.

Turning back, he narrowed his eyes at the daughter, as another man came running with another woman, this one older than the daughter. She looked Asian. "What's going on," he began, alerted by the noise. Then seeing him, he demanded, "Who the hell are you? And what did you do to Hank?"

He raised an eyebrow but ignored him.

What he didn't expect as for the man to pull a pistol from his pocket and flash out a SCPD badge. . "The policeman shouted, "Lower your weapon!"

"Silver City Police Department," he said, amused. "And pray tell," Reed said with amusement despite the serious nature of the situation, "where was the SCPD when the invaders brought devastation down on this town?"

Before the officer could say anything else, Reed went on. He chuckled, "If Hank didn't hurt me with a shotgun, then what could your tiny little weapon do to me?" He raised his Kara Kesh hand at the man. The ruby glowed threateningly with an ominous promise. "Do you wish to try fool?"

Bang!

Bang!

The bullets smashed on the semi-invisible shield. An immobile statue, Reed smiled wickedly, which seemed all the more ominous. "Do want to try again," he said mockingly as the man, Jack, he remembered, lowered his weapon, "An excellent choice, considering you obvious disadvantage."

"What do you want," the sister, Astrid whispered, with a hint of anger. Amusingly, Darby said the same thing at the same moment.

"Your assistance."

"What?"

He heard John moan behind him, and he saw the father begin to move a bit. He wondered if he could hear them. "With what," Jack demanded. He raised an eyebrow at that as he took a deep breath.

"This world, our world, our sovereignty," he said, "all that we know and hold dear has been taken from us unfairly by monsters from the outer depths of space. I come before you, the eight of you, with the promise of liberation. The path to liberation shall not be swift, shall not be quick. It will take years, but in those years, I guarantee you, all of you, that we shall reclaim our independence."

He paused briefly.

"I offer my life on it."

Hank grunted as Astrid helped him. The man had already overcome his paralyzed state, rather quickly he thought. Shouldn't he be paralyzed for a few more minutes, an hour at least, Reed thought, surprised. "What the hell hit me," he grunted as he held his head, wavering as his daughter supported him. He blinked a few times and saw Reed standing in his house, and snarled.

"YOU!"

Before the father could do anything, Reed raised his Kara Kesh, and the jewel glowed brightly, causing the father to stop before he could anything. "Do you want a repeat," Reed threatened, feeling guilty for enjoying this. What he planned for his Empire was not this… but all good things had to have rough starts. "I tell you, I can _kill _you if I wanted to, but I won't, unless you force me to."

The father grunted again. He seemed to be a sensible man, but Reed felt that he would be a problem later on. Behind him, the son began to stir. Reed stepped to the side and motioned with his arm to the son. "I suggest bringing your son's in," he said. "None of us want to be found by the aliens."

He _really _didn't want to be discovered.

Hank tried to move, but he almost fell. Astrid and Darby held up as Jack went out, a glare sent to Reed. He threw John's am over his shoulder as he and the little brother, a nice kid Reed thought, held his brother inside. Jack was doing the work, but… Kurt, yes Kurt, seemed to want to be helpful.

Like he said, nice.

"You said something about the aliens," Hank said, a slight slur in his voice. "You said that you can 'liberate us.' How? One fancy alien ship can't fight off an entire alien army with giant spaceships."

"My ship," Reed said. He felt a bit guilty about saying 'his ship' since it used to belong to Korra. "My ship is far more advanced than anything these aliens have here, and is more powerful than a thousand of their fighters. I admit, however, taking out one of their orbital ships is a difficult task, but it is _not impossible_. Through time, my one ship can destroy one, but I'm not willing to take that risk."

"So what do you want us to do?"

"The guy says that if we help him, he can kick the Insects off Earth," Jack said.

"Oh." That 'oh' turned into a sneer. "How?"

"As I said before," Reed said annoyed now. "I have the technology, the ability, to overthrow the Insects, yes. But as I said before and I say again now, I cannot do it alone. The eight of you will be the start of what can become a rebellion and eventual uprising against our oppressors-we will be the birth of freedom!"

He saw a definite change in all of them, save John and other younger brother who had yet to make an appearance. He was never good at public speaking and he usually tried to avoid that even though his brother encouraged him. Oh god… his brother. He felt his beat faster and forced his focus back on the situation at hand. But he wondered if his brother would be proud of him. "Will you help me? Will you sacrifice what little you have in order to overthrow the oppressors?"

Jack sighed. "Well, I'll help."

Hank said yes too.

The daughter didn't seem happy but one look from her father and she nodded. The teen was still groaning, and didn't seem to be coming around yet. But he was sure he'd get his support, if forced. The two brothers, their time would come. And young Kurt seemed to be in awe of him, and interested.

Ah childhood!

Now, he needed to use the crystals. "Lead me to your basement," he ordered, "leave John here, he'll come around without us. The plan begins now." '_And so does my Empire,_' he thought happily.

"I'm not leaving my son!" Hank said.

His Kara Kesh glowed.

"You will. He's not going anywhere."

Hank flinched.

With some reluctance, Hank and the others led him to the downstairs door, none of them wanting to test his Kara Kesh. The sky was beginning to darken, despite the fact that it was midday. Astrid glanced back at him, and he smiled. She shuddered a bit and looked away quickly. He felt hurt, but then again, he had paralyzed her father, and knocked her brother unconscious.

Still, it hurt.

The basement was quite large, to his surprise. It was divided into four rooms, and he saw a fine line of dust. In the room to the right, he saw a TV and XBOX-360 and a rack of games and DVDS. To his left, he saw a second bedroom, a guest room he guessed. In the room behind the guest room, there was the storage area, and behind the 'Game Room,' there was nothing but a few boxes.

They had emptied it to paint it before everything happened. "We'll, we're here-want do you want here?"

Reed stepped down, and looked around. He walked into the unused room, and pulled out a Tok'ra Crystal. "What the hell is that," Hank asked, standing at the door, the shotgun in his hand. Reed wondered when he had grabbed that, and ignored it. But he turned around so he could keep his eye on the group.

"A Crystal."

And then he dropped it.


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Stargate or any of other universes I'm going to crossover with…**

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**Reviews:**

**CC: Thank you.**

**The Hidden Sith: Heh-it has, hasn't it? I'm glad that you're enjoying how my glorious Covenant is forming. Reed will not have a destiny like Kara Thrace did, but that is interesting…**

**John777: Initially, this part was going to be a crossover with DeathDay and Earth Rise, but I decided to make this an alien invasion of m own. **

**VexMaster: Thank you!**

**Reaper: Ah thank you. However, Reed will still go insane and become the religious fanatic he is 'destined' to be, although I will tone it down. However the religious element will be there and the fanatic following and empire will evolve. **

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**Don't forget to review! It makes me happier to get reviews!**

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**Inspired by StarGate: Galactic Imperium » by VexMaster.**

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**Please, please, please, please, PLEASE, review! Even if you hate this story and want it burned for heresy, tell me. Give me your opinions, suggestions, criticism, hate mail and fan mail! PLEASE!**

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**Also read this: Clash of Empires... co-written with VexMaster.**

**Also read this: Stargate: Galactic Imperium… written by VexMaster**

**Also read this: Golden Dawn... written by Amann**

**Also read this: War of Gods and Men... written by Amann**

**Also read this: The Raid of the Twelve Colonies... written by me**

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**Go to my Forum if you have any ideas or anything you want to say!**

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_Anarchy is the stepping-stone to absolute power._

**Napoleon I**

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Sitting in the pilot chair of the Al'kesh, Alexander Reed, or 'Emperor Alexander' as he called himself now, pondered on his next actions. Perhaps he was getting a bit arrogant with his name, but he had earned the right. '_After all,_' he thought proudly, '_who can unite near fifty people and have them obey a seventeen year old kid? No one else can, because no one has fate on my side like I do._'

He smiled.

Through the use of the Al'kesh sensors, he had expanded to search for human bio-signs in the entire city. He avoided incredibly large areas of people, considering that there were hundreds of the Insects there, concentration camps or something like that, he had guessed at first. His mind had gone to the Holocaust when he thought about that. He felt disgusted, but he couldn't help, not yet anyway. If he tried, in the end, it would only get more people killed and they wouldn't be better off.

He doubted they were concentration camps though, as he had used the two probes he found in the Al'kesh tucked in the side of the armory to spy on the camps. Useful devices, the probes, although he didn't remember seeing them at all in the SG-1 series, or in Korra's memories either, meaning that Korra hadn't discovered them. As such, he wondered what else was in the Al'kesh that Korra hadn't found. Since this had been Ba'al's 'restart ship,' he would need a lot of things to start a new Empire in another reality. There could be many more technologies onboard the ship that Korra hadn't found. And the Al'kesh was big too-there were many places to hide technologies.

He frowned, however.

There were a few issues he found saddening.

_Beep-beep-beep-beep!_

"Damn," he muttered.

He slammed his armored fist on the door in front of him. He slammed on it again, and sighed angrily. Why wouldn't this door open? If only Korra had the time to explore the Al'kesh or at least _know _the goddamn codes for this door. He looked at the Goa'uld keypad, the knowledge on how to read it in his memory thanks to Korra. He tapped seven more buttons, but the response was the same.

Rejection.

He cursed again.

He found a number of locked doors he guessed had valuable technology Ba'al wouldn't have wanted anyone to see. He could only dream of what was hidden behind those doors, and he wondered how many combinations, how much time, it would take before he would be able to open them.

He sighed.

Later.

But back to the camps now…

The reason he doubted they were camps, after viewing the probes images and videos, was that the Insects weren't massacring them. Instead, they were having them build what looked like a giant building. The hundreds of slaves there had already constructed the foundation, almost a quarter of a mile long and 50 meters high. What was more was that they were building it by hand, without machines.

He had to admit, he was impressed with what the humans slaves were capable of. But he felt furious that the aliens were making humans do so much work. Eventually, he would fix this error, but not now.

And when the time came, it would be up to the people to decide to forgive the Bugger's or exterminate them. He would prefer to keep them alive as a work force, but people would want revenge, and he had to keep his people happy. He had voiced his opinions to a select few, in disguise as too not get recognized. They had all been adamant in their resolve to wipe out the aliens.

He would give it to them.

He leaned on the chair and sighed.

But for everything, he had been put on the side lines, organizing his growing group and creating order out of anarchy. It was a tiring and he wanted to take a more active role in these early weeks. But only a month had passed, and he _had _done more to create a resistance group than in the books and movies. Of course, he was cheating with advanced technology, but life was full of cheats.

A _month_!

In the month since he had started, he had expanded his underground Tok'ra base considerably to provide rooms for his people, as well as a kitchen, dining areas, showers, bathrooms, and a barracks for his few soldiers. He had used quite a number of his Tok'ra Crystals to do all this, but he had a lot more in reserve. The compound was ¾'s of a mile wide in all directions, and extended into the town, underneath it. That had been an issue with the pipes, but crystals were tough and water proof.

At least, unless an Al'kesh bombed the tunnel roof.

But what were the chances of that?

Although he had two former (retired) military officers under his wing that had joined him with the promise of curing their wives diseases, he had chosen Jack Manning as his Personal Guardian, essentially a fancy term for bodyguard. And the two US military officers? For the US Army Captain Rockwood, his wife had cancer, a plague he had cured (after several visits,) with his Kara Kesh. For US Army Major Kevin, his wife had burns on her body. It had been gruesome, and he almost vomited, but he did it. The Kara Kesh, while it was a useful device, didn't solve all his problems. However, the Goa'uld Healing Device did solve some of the issues thankfully.

He had found the device where he had found the Kara Kesh-he had missed it. He would have missed it if he had not actually moved it when he was changing in the Al'kesh. It was a very useful device, and it would be instrumental, he knew, in creating a new world order, and his Empire.

One World, Under Unity!

However, he still prized his Kara Kesh above all. And he wouldn't have gotten half his people if he didn't have it. The Healing Device was good only for healing, while the Kara Kesh served a multitude of purposes. However, he never left, anywhere now, without having both of the devices with him at all times. As for the military men, while those would have been his preferred choice, he knew he couldn't trust them. Call him paranoid, but he loved history and he knew what things could go wrong. Manning though… well, the threat still existed in Manning but he was… different.

Actually, they were about the same.

He was right-all men desired power. There were different ways to gain power-to have it trust upon you or take it when you see it. For him, he had it both ways. It had been forced on him when bonded with Korra and he had given him his message, and he had taken it when he was given the Al'kesh.

Now Manning… Manning was given power. As his Personal Guardian, Manning had been given a room (along with his wife,) as big as his own. He had also been given better weapons than his average soldier. His armor, was the same with the except that he had a cape strapped to his shoulder pads with a triangle-shaped cut at the bottom. He also had a Staff Weapon, not a Zat.

The two military officers, he used them to train his small paramilitary group of eighteen, although it was different from what they were used to since Zat's didn't have sights or use bullets. But they were making do, and he knew that the eighteen were eager to shoot at the aliens.

Ah revenge!

His original group had been dispersed to do independent jobs. Hank and John had joined the group he had called 'People Locators.' Using the sensors on his Al'kesh, he had them pick up people he found. There were a surprising number of people scattered across the city, but most were at the outskirts, and not in his area. The people he had now represented the bulk of people he had easy access to.

In order for him to expand to secure his base here, as well as stave off any Insect attack, he needed more people, and while he could use his Al'kesh, he need to have all the power diverted to the to the cloak. The Al'kesh had been more damaged than he had previously thought, than Korra had thought.

The power generator had been damaged, and while it wouldn't overload, it would take time to repair with his limited resources. For the moment, he was using two back-up generators from the hospital. They were only temporary, but it did give him at least a week to try and repair what was wrong with the generator (if he understood it.)

Darby Manning and Astrid (Jerome, he learned the families last name was,) worked as cooks, making food with what little they had. It was a stereotypical role of women, but they were the two best cooks in his little resistance. He had a few men cooking as well, eight in all. It was difficult, cooking for nearly fifty people with what food that wasn't rotten, spoiled, or infested with rats and bugs. Grocery stores, family owned and supermarkets had been ransacked long ago.

But somehow, they managed.

He felt something between him, but he also felt a wall between them that discouraged anything further.

At any rate, she wasn't his type.

As for the two youngest, Kurt and Henry, he had them in school, with a teacher Hank had found in a Burger King with his wife and kid. The man was named Boyace Black. And because his last name was Black, and he _was _black, he'd been made of, playfully and nothing serious, because of it. However, he didn't encourage it, and whenever he came, and he heard someone making fun of it, they would stop talking. He didn't tolerate racism, and he wanted unity amongst his group. Alone, alone they would all fall apart and die out a withering and painful death. But together, they would become the basis for his Empire in which he would take revenge on the aliens.

"To the future," he said loudly to himself.

Rising from the seat, he walked to the very back of the Al'kesh, taking his time as he had the time to do so. Initially, the Al'kesh had enough power diverted to the cloak for it to last a few weeks, maybe a month or more. But he had drained a lot of that power powering the cloning chamber.

"Magnificent."

Alexander stepped into what was supposed to be Ba'al's cloning chamber, breathless as he saw the forms within the see through tubes. He saw his reflection, a head sticking out of the jet black armor of the alternate Kull Warrior, on the see-through tubes. He placed his hand on the last tube and smiled. Even as he stared into the misshapen faces of what he knew would be the basis for his first and most elite troops, they did not look like much. Certainly Jaffa training was pathetic when compared to Earth military training, but there was a reason these Jaffa had been chosen, and he could have them trained later. Jaffa had been enhanced by the Goa'uld, and was pure warriors.

In time, they would be a core for his military.

In the future, of course.

From what he had sorted out in his memories and looking into the Al'kesh database, it would take three months for the clones to fully mature. Ba'al had taken great steps to reduce the cloning period, but any shorter and the clone would suffer cellular degeneration or be deformed or have other issues.

He couldn't have both though, not yet. He'd have to sacrifice the cloak or his clones, since he didn't have enough power. Either way though, in the end, he'd lose both unless he repaired the generator. He worried about that. If the aliens discovered the Al'kesh, everything he did so far would be for nothing.

He sighed.

For the moment though, he would leave that for later. Grabbing a zat, he strapped it to his waist and activated the Asgard Beaming Device integrated into the Kara Kesh, something Ba'al was known for. A flash of blue-white light enveloped him, and he vanished in a stream of light as he reappeared underground. Two kids saw him, and rubbed their eyes. There was a small child population that he didn't include in his count (16 kids last he remembered,) that he would include when they reached their 15th birthday.

'_If they reach that age,_' a nasty voice said in the black of his head.

He ignored it.

"Get to your parents," he said, walking past them, his pace quickening. Parents… oh god his parents…

He blinked away the tears.

Turning a corner in the twisted halls of the Tok'ra tunnels, he also ran into Manning. "Oh good-we found you," he said, taking a few steps back. Reed noticed that he had a pained look on his face, and he was sweating. "Uh Sir," Reed heard the usual sneer at the back, but also something else. "I wanted to talk to you about something that just came up, something about one of our people."

"What?"

His eyes shifted as someone passed by.

"Ah, can we go to the Barracks?"

Reed frowned, and Manning flinched. Without his hood, he didn't look so strange to Jack now, but he knew what he could do with the Kara Kesh, even if he didn't know what it was called.

When Hank and a few other adults had seen that he younger than them, none of them had been happy-they'd been pissed, actually. But so long as he had the Kara Kesh, they wouldn't touch him. But eventually, he knew, they would try a coup.

He just had to be ready when they did.

"Not that I'm ordering you around," he said quickly, "but we shouldn't talk in the halls were people can hear us, you know?"

Reed nodded. He understood.

"Lead the way."

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"What?" Reed said sharply, narrowing his eyes in pure anger. "How, no, when? When did this happen," he demanded.

"I was coming to you when I heard," Manning said quietly. "It happened three hours ago, give or take. I wasn't given a definite time. As soon as I heard, I went to look for you since you should know."

Reed felt horrified and leaned on the crystalline walls in the private room of the barracks. Only he and Manning had access to it. "How many, do you know how many?" He asked quietly, in pain. He didn't know the kid, just a bit younger than him, but even so, it hurt to have someone die under him.

"No sir."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Did you get the body?"

Manning hesitated. "No."

He made a fist in anger and almost screamed. "Who was with him? Why did he go over there?"

"Alex and Carter were with him. But when they saw them, it was impossible not to see them since they said it was like a dust storm, they ran away," he replied, defending them a bit. He knew why-of the eighteen in his military, those two were the best, which only meant they should have at least been able to fight. "Kevin," he shook his head sadly. "Shit. Kevin tripped and…" he didn't say anything else.

He didn't have to.

Reed took a deep breath:

"At least… where it happened?

"Near the Mall…"

Reed activated the beaming device, and vanished. That was all he needed to know, he knew where the Mall was. Appearing in the Al'kesh, he grabbed a probe and beamed out. Activating the probe through the Goa'uld version of a PDA or a Flexipad (he had no idea what the military term for it was,) he threw the probe up and moved it towards the mall. The probe flew quickly, a tiny dot.

The mall was a three story building. The top floor had a Martial Arts Studio, a Bookstore, a McDonalds and a Subway. Second floor only had a Toys R' Us. It was giant, and constantly crowded. And third floor had a Sports Authority. He'd been planning to have a tunnel all the way to the Mall, but he kept putting it off at the last minute. Because of that, and he blamed himself, someone had died.

There…

On the Goa'uld Flexipad, he saw a group of people on motorcycles, a few on bikes and one a moped (strange…) lounging around. They were heavily armed, with shotguns and a few rifles, M16's or something since they looked like a picture he had found on Wikipedia before all this started. They wore leather jackets and tight blue jeans. On the back of their Jackets, he saw a large symbol. The white skull was on fire, and impaled by a double-edged broadsword on a dark blue circle with white edge. Curving around the circle were the words: **LIBERATORS**. He growled.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Manning come out of the house, and come walking up to him. Reed left the probe watching them, slipping the Goa'uld pad away. "A Biker Gang," Reed said coldly. "They call themselves the 'Liberators.' Get everyone and tell them we're getting revenge."

"Huh?"

"We're going to kill those bikers," he said savagely.

Manning was stunned.

That surprised him, but it made him angry.

"But they could join us," Manning said, surprised by his tone. "With no disrespect, but you always say to give a second chance, and to try and have peace instead of violence," he said, quoting him. "I want revenge too, but they can give us more people to work with and weapons too. What if they know stuff that we could use? And we have eighteen people, how many do they have?"

"Twenty four," Reed said, "a fair fight."

"But we're outnumbered!"

"The armor you and the others wear," he said angrily, stepping forward, the ruby on his Kara Kesh glowing brightly. "Will be able to protect you from bullets, an entire clip from a M16, and even shrug off a close-range shotgun blast." He knew this from Korra's memories. The reason Earth weapons had grown effective against Jaffa armor was because they had switched to armor-piercing rounds.

He doubted the Liberators had that.

"But still…"

"Maybe you need to be replaced with someone who can _understand__,_" Reed hissed, narrowing his eyes as he raised the Kara Kesh threateningly.

"No, I'll ah, I'll get the others. Where do you want us to meet?"

"The farthest tunnel, the one that points to the Mall," Reed said he hovered his hand over his Kara Kesh. "We will strike from underground, and take what we want from them. But leave one alive," he added. "There is the possibly that there will be a base they came from, and things we will need."

His Guardian sounded unsure but nodded. "Got it."

"Good. We will take our revenge on these murderers," he said.

"You're going with us?"

Manning sounded surprised.

Reed nodded. "You will serve under me during this attack. And I will lead it. Do you understand?"

"Yup."

"Then go."

"Yes sir."

…

Twenty two minutes later, and the Biker Gang was still there. Half of them had gone into the mall, and a couple of them had returned with clothes, some food, golf clubs, baseballs and bats- a lot of things. He especially cared about the food, since his people, his little group, needed it more than those bastards.

"A new tunnel?"

Reed hid the Goa'uld Flexipad and turned around. His soldiers, nineteen including Manning, were waiting behind him. Manning was the only one with a staff weapon and a zat strapped to his waist. The others only had zat guns, two each, strapped to their waists. Some of them had a pistol too, but with their limited ammo, bullets were, by his order, to be carefully conserved and watched over.

"Straight to the mall," Reed said.

"What's the plan?" A soldier asked.

"The plan," Reed said as he made a fist with his Kara Kesh.

"…Is to kill them all."


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Stargate or any of other universes I'm going to crossover with…**

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_The history of liberty is the history of resistance _

**Woodrow Wilson**

**.**

**.**

Smith Blue looked at the abandon buildings all around them, empty of people even though it had been bustling with life before. He'd grown up here, but after his parents died when he was 14, he'd been unofficially 'adopted' by the Liberators. They'd found the killer when the police didn't. He'd been weak then, unable to shoot the fucking guy even though he had killed his parents.

Now…

He snickered as he patted the Browning 9-mill Hi-Power Pistol in his pants pocket. He could kill a guy without a flinch, without caring. He'd done it a dozen times before, because he had power now, and because he was strong. Oh sure he felt bad for the kid, but he'd got in their way, and no one got in the way of the Liberators. Silver City was their town, and the Crip's knew that, after they'd been run out of town. They swore they'd be back, but four years come and they hadn't.

'_And probably never will,_' he thought. '_Fuckers probably got themselves killed during the invasion, them and their stupid 'code of honor._' _They ain't smart like us-we waited until everything died down._' Hiding in their little bunker not far from the Mall, the sixty of them had waited as the aliens rampaged, and the entire population of the city fled for the hills, as the saying went. Course not everyone went adios-some stayed to hide it out in homes, or acting like scavengers. They met a couple of people who had stayed. They all knew where to put their allegiance.

Course, not everyone was smart. Their newbie's, the meat that had just joined-they chickened out or were butchered. Newbie's didn't have bikes yet, they weren't allowed until they, like he did, proved themselves. They couldn't wear the symbol or ride with them unless they were strong. But even so, some of them couldn't handle it. Randy, a forty-something year old man who had beat up two cops sometime in the past, had gotten himself killed. Taking one of their M-14's, he'd shot up one of the aliens and got shot up by another. Idiot was one of twelve that got them killed.

But him!

He wasn't just strong physically, he was also strong mentally. He had a fast reaction time, and could think farther ahead. He knew the town, and he knew a couple places that the aliens probably didn't know about. He coughed as he looked up the murky sky. "What the hell's taking so long," he shouted at the guard at the Mall entrance. "C'mon on-it's getting dark, and none of us can see in the damn dark you know!"

"Tell that to Joe and the kids!" The guard laughed.

"Tell 'em then," Smith shouted back. The eight others chuckled or laughed. One of them lit a cigarette, while another dropped his and grinded it with his old boot. The guard gave him the finger but went in the mall.

"Hurry up!" The guard shouted.

Nothing.

"Get in there," another coughed, a bandana on his blonde head. "Get the hell in there and tell them! I don't know about you, but I still got a lot of years on me, and I want to kill some Bugger's before I die, you know. Plus, there's that little blackie waiting for me back home," he added, smiling.

"You and your women," another said, disgusted.

"You're just mad cause you can't get any," the blonde sneered.

"You want this?" The other shouted, pulling out his pistol and aiming it and the blonde guy's head. But the other found himself staring at the barrel of a pistol too, this one in the blonde guy's hand.

"Calm the fuck down," a man with a Hitler-like mustache shouted. "Both of you just get a damn room!"

Smith rolled his eyes and saw the guard walk in, pulling his pistol out, flicking the safety off, just in case. The Bugger's might have left Silver City alone for the moment (except for the occasional patrol,) but that didn't mean there were still people living around the places, even if they were rare. They didn't need guys, but they all wanted women. Young or middle aged woman, to be exact.

Kids too, since they could be potential members.

He smiled.

The Liberators had carved themselves a small little fiefdom a block big from their bunker, for their things. The Armory, the eating area, the 'vehicle depot,' the whorehouses, shops, and of course, homes for them. They weren't stupid, and all of them were careful not to attract the Bugger's attention since it would mean the end of them. But they were smart, and they kept it safe, and so they were alive.

Yeah.

He glanced at the store and saw his reflection in the windows. He frowned as he rubbed his eyes with his free hand and stared through the glass. He saw someone, more than one, move. Was it Joe and the others?

"Move your butts!" He shouted.

He sniggered.

Life was good.

Suddenly, the windows exploded.

**.**

**.**

**Three minutes before….**

**.**

**.**

The man died after a few seconds.

Hoping to have kept him alive for interrogation (the army officers were good at that, he learned,) he wasn't too happy. But there were others for him to grab. He only needed one, but he could use two or three. The fiery neural beam disconnected from the forehead and retreated back into the palm of his Kara Kesh. The red ruby glowed and the dimmed as he lowered his hand.

"What was that?" He heard someone whisper.

Reed didn't respond as he activated the shield on his Kara Kesh and walked forward; the other's gathering at his sides and arming their Zat's. Unless in dire situations or they lost their Zat's, they weren't allowed to use their pistols, the few who had them. However, with the guns from the Bikers, hopefully, they would be able to change that for a moment anyway.

Manning grabbed the dead man's pistol and stowed it away, keeping it for safe keeping. He was the most armed of his group-two Zat's, a staff weapon, a pistol and now another. Reed only had two Zat's and his Kara Kesh. But his Kara Kesh was worth more than anything anyone had. Unless someone through a knife at him or a dart, he was safe from everything. Nodding to his Emperor, Manning armed his staff weapon and walked a few steps ahead of Reed, sweeping the long energy weapon in a low arc, waist level.

They were below ground level, at the Sports Authority.

"You four," Reed hissed to four young soldiers. "Get into that store and take what you can back to the base. Get others and begin to take anything that we might need from there. Keep a guard posted there at the door at all times."

As an afterthought, he added, "be careful."

They nodded, nervous as they jogged into the Sports store.

The clothes and exercise equipment there would be useful for his Empire. It would allow them to take off the clothes they had for fresher clothes, and they could get into shape. Now if they only had food, it would be better. 'Star Trek Replicators,' he thought suddenly. 'Those things made all sorts of food instantly. That would be useful.'

Later, he promised himself.

Above them was the Toys R' Us (and now, based on the colored map next to the useless elevators, a clothing store called Daffy's,) and above that, there was the books, martial arts studio, and food. He wondered if any food up there was safe to eat. Maybe at the Subway's, but he doubted it. Later, when he had time, this place could be a gold mine and a colony of sorts for him. But for the moment, he wanted to kill those bikers. They killed one of his people, the first person he lost under him, and he wouldn't allow the insult to go away quietly. They walked up the stairs, and rounded the corner of the Toys R' Us. On the far side, he saw someone walk out of the exit of the toy store with a box of things in his hands.

"I got him," Manning said.

Kneeling, he activated the staff weapon and aimed ahead of the biker. Unaware of his coming fate, the biker kept on walking. Manning closed his right eye and licked his lips as he leaded the target. He squeezed the firing mechanism and a golden bolt burst from the tip of the ornate staff weapon, sizzling as it struck the man in the side of the face. Half his face was burned away as Manning fired off two more shots, hitting him in the chest and arm. The biker died almost instantly, falling to the side as he dropped the box.

"Good," Reed said to Manning.

Manning only smiled.

"What the-Joe!"

Manning's smile vanished as someone rushed around the corner and kneeled at Joe's body. "Jesus! What happen-" He stopped in mid sentence when he saw Reed and his soldiers. He swore and pulled out his pistol, flicking the safety off as Manning aimed the staff weapon. The man got two shots off, the bullets bouncing off the tough Jaffa armor. A single bolt from the staff weapon straight into his chest, burning away his clothes and the skin and muscle, straight above the heart, was all it took.

"Move forward," Manning said.

"Wait," Reed said. He pointed to the Toy Store. "The two of you," he pointed, "get in there and take what you can back downstairs."

"Got it."

"Yeah, alright."

They pushed the doors open and walked in, Zat's armed.

The second floor was large, and the Toys R' Us was larger than Reed remembered. Reed led them, and fired two electrical bolts at a man who just walked in, hollering, "Joe! Joe, where are you!" The man cringed and fell to his knees, dead. So the Zat's worked the same way they did in the series-one shot stunned, and two shots killed. Did the third vaporize them? He frowned and almost smacked himself on the head. One shot stunned-he could have stunned the man instead of killing him.

Next one, then.

He saw blue light crackle in the windows of the store, and paused. They had killed a few bikers, but a lot more weren't outside, meaning they had to be inside. They weren't downstairs, so they were either upstairs or in the Toys R' Us. He blew open the door to the Toy Store and his warriors followed. One of the men he had sent in, between a teenager and a young adult, was leaning on a shelf, clutching his right hand. "The guy stabbed me," he gasped, "he fucking stabbed me!"

"How many are here?"

"Four, five maybe," he wheezed. "Ron's guarding the exit."

"Fan out, kill the bikers," Reed ordered as he activated the Healing Hand Device and held it over the wound. A glowing orange light burst from the device, basking the wound in glorious light. The man hissed wincing as the wound slowly healed. He heard the sound of Zat's being fired rapidly, and heard Manning's staff weapon fire.

"To the right!"

"He's behind that box of Transformers!"

"One of them went into the game section!"

"Kill them!"

Alexander dropped his as the teen stared at the newly healed hand. "Thanks!"

"Move," Reed said harshly.

The teen stared at him, and saw him narrow his eyes, and the palm of his Kara Kesh glow. Grabbing his dropped Zat, he joined in the fight, running to where the biker was, and to where Manning was shooting at a Biker who was behind a fallen box of Transformers. He looked around and saw a lot of useful things. The bikes, for instance. They could move between cars and go the streets. It would make bringing things much more easier, and quicker than bringing them in by hand. The clothes too. Most of them looked like they were for kids but perhaps there was some for adults. The plastics and metals could be melted down to make layers of armor and windows, to make some defensive area's and armor the Al'kesh further and provide other things. He thought hard, suddenly remembering something. The High School... didn't the High School had a Machine Shop, didn't it? Maybe there was a back-up generator there or they could use Manuel power to power the machines. Some of the machines, actually, didn't need power. At the school, they could find lots of things. Tools, pencils and paper (he knew a lot of people would like that,) chairs and desks, anything left behind in the desks and lockers too. Books... and there, his eyes widened.

Someone gasped nearby as they were hit by a zat.

Books... books were the key to expanding and understanding his Empire. Knowledge was power, after all. In the book 1632 and everything after that, Kings of Europe went to great lengths to take books of the future to see what was in store for them, rather than schematics and plans on future-American weapons and ships and technology.

Yes... books were very important.

Books in the School library, the Public Library and the Book store upstairs would provide him and his people with valuable knowledge, as well as give them something to do when they weren't working for the great good of the Empire. Some called it slavery, but it was necessary for them to work the majority of the time. After all, no one complained of all the work they did. At least, not in front of his face.

Either way though, their work would liberate their world.

After that, revenge would follow.

Reed walked over to the exit, walking between the aisles the occasional bullet bouncing off his shield. One biker gaped as he fired two shots, only to be shot in the face when he made himself exposed. The guard... Ron... was there, putting his zat away: "Trouble?"

"Another just walked in," he said, "Killed him with two shots."

Ack.

He nodded however, somehow happy. "You know how to use it now?"

He nodded, staring at him at eye level. "One shot stuns, two shot kills. So far, I haven't needed it for anything more. And doesn't need bullets-and is a clean weapon."

"Gun lover?"

"I had a BB gun," he admitted, "but I shot at cans before... not at people, and not with an alien weapon. It's different though..."

Reed clasped his shoulder. "Behold the wonders of the zat!"

He smiled at his Emperor.

Manning walked over then, the others following. Their armor all had scratches from where the bullets had bounced off. "The place is clear, my Emperor." Reed heard the hint of sarcasm, but nodded, ignoring it. When the time came, and Manning wasn't needed anymore, he'd get what was coming to him. He had fate on his side, and Manning was a tool, a useful one though. For soon, his Empire would be the unified Empire of all races and places that he dreamed of.

"Good, now we deal with the others."

"An old fashioned run and kill?"

"We gotta keep at least one alive though," another said, remembering.

Ah, they were learning to listen to him.

'They must either respect me,' he thought, 'or scared of me.'

He preferred respect, but fear would do for the moment.

Only for the moment.

Reed smiled coldly. It was a smile that wasn't supposed to be a teen's face, and Manning shivered.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Blowing the door open with his Kara Kesh, his warriors ran out, screaming like hell as they fired their Zat's. Calmly, walking with a certain pace that said 'authority, bow to me!' He watched as the Bikers collapsed at the sudden strike.

"Die you bastards!" Manning shouted as he fired his staff weapon at a blonde biker who had his pistol already out. He fell of his bike, a burning and sizzling would on his chest. He coughed a as the bike fell on him. Seeing a chance, he walked over to the fallen biker as Manning turned his back to him, covering him as he fired his staff. He heard a few gunshots, and his personal shield flared.

Reed turned around and saw biker, leaning on his motorcycle, cough as he aimed his pistol at him. His leg was a cauterized stump, hit by Manning's staff. He fired a few more shots which only bounced off his shield. He walked over, his Kara Kesh glowing, a maniacal smile on his face.

He didn't see a biker there.

He saw a Bugger.

The Bugger's who killed his family.

He pressed the palm of the Kara Kesh to the Bugger's face and activated the neural beam and the fiery tendril shot out from his palm, striking into the middle of his forehead. He didn't about the man he was killing, he thought about the Bugger's. Oh yes... they would die, burn, all of them! He was willing to be lenient, but they would be nothing more than workers. His ideal Empire did not have a place for them other than that. The man cringed, unable to scream as his soldiers slaughtered the surprised bikers. After a few moments, the man stiffened, and the beam retreated. His shield flared as a few stray bullets smashed on it, and he stood up, turning around. He heard a motorcycle roar to life, and he saw a man with a Hitler-like mustache ride away, speeding down the street. Several Zat blasts followed him but didn't come anywhere close, and he didn't expect them to.

So pathetic.

He pulled out the Goa'uld Flexipad and commanded the probe to follow the biker. As he tucked the pad away, in moments, the bikers were all dead or, for two, wounded. He didn't count the one who escaped though. "We got two," Manning said.

"So I see," Reed humored him.

"What do we do with them?"

"Bring them to the compound, get the army officers to interrogate them," he ordered, feeling a bit weird. He still wasn't used to giving orders. "Three of you go with them. I'll go as well-there are things that I have to deal with. This Mall can be a goldmine for us. Manning, oversee the... liberation of everything here and bring them back. I'll send more to help you. See what's on the third floor as well..."

None of them noticed the alien watching them.

**.**

**.**

**Onboard **_**De'tav'aro**_** (**_**Honor of our Father**_**) Cruiser-Carrier**

**In orbit above 'Ea'th'**

**.**

**.**

"This is from a scout?"

The Ta'alk, a second-rate citizen, bowed before the Fon. "Near what the umans call 'Silver City,' Admiral."

The Fon clicked his mandibles. Wearing the ornate colors of an Admiral, which consisted of several stripes of silver and green and a double-bladed curved sword (a tradition,) strapped at his waist, he was the image of what an Admiral should look like. He was young, eighty two years of age by this planet's fast rotation which was twice as fast as his own. "How is it that the umans came to possess such weaponry? Of all the umans we encountered on this world, they have carried only carried assault weapons like our own. Indeed, their technological scale is surprisingly advanced, even though they lack the ability to travel through the dimensions to other stars as we do."

The Ta'alk shrugged. The Ta'alk was an umanoid shape, but was very different from the umans. They too were grey skinned, but were short with long arms and a large head with bulging eyes. Their mouths were small. "I do not know Admiral. However they are few in numbers, and are not a threat. Those in India and China, mainly, are the greater threat. Many Ta'alk, Sauro and Fon have fallen in attempts to tame those regions. Africa has not given us much trouble, and neither as Europa and Russi. The America of North and South provide only remnant resistance, but they are more of an annoyance compared to the others. We should not focus on them."

The Fon nodded.

They hoped to end the resistance soon. They had several hundred colony ships at the edge of the star system; orbiting the frozen world they called 'Pluto.' They were a desperate race, and violence was not at their hearts. Of all the worlds they encountered, this one had been the most likely to give them a new world to call home. It was a sad fact that the Ta'alk probe ship had crashed on the surface of the planet a few decades of this planet's rotation, but the brief transmission had given them all that they needed to know about the planet.

He felt pained.

He had never known what Chualt looked like. The world had been devoured by its own sun when it went supernova. They had known for it for quite a while, and had been preparing for it when it did. But never did they expect it would die a hundred years before its time, it just wasn't possible. But it had, and only two billion Fon, not including the Ta'alk and Sauro worker races, had survived on their exodus ship. Their worlds, devastated during the bitter conquest centuries ago in ancient history, provided no haven for them.

They had fled, and for a century (two hundred years of Ea'th's rotation,) had traveled in the depths of space, traveling to other worlds they hoped would support them. They had found dozens of worlds across a hundred star systems that had the prospect, but neither of them was capable of sustaining their worker races. The modern society of Fon depended on the workers to do the manual labor for them.

Space was a vast object, and in the end, they had paused only a hundred light-years from this star, and sent probes in all directions. They were running low on vital supplies, on fuel and the materials needed to replicate their machines.

Thus that led them here.

However, the planet was proving to be a greater pain than the assimilation of the Ta'alk and Sauro into the Fon Republic. They had to empty their colony ships, the survival of their species depended on it. But with the Indians and Chinians fighting in the mountains and ruins and forests, it was difficult to ferret them out and end them.

"Divert as many Sauro to deal with the Indians," he ordered. "Send several Air Cruisers to commence limited bombardment of suspected Indian bases."

The lower-caste Ta'alk bowed.

"Yes, Admiral."

Watching the Ta'alk walk out, the Fon Admiral was amused. The Ea'th date, July 8 1947, should have alerted the umans to them. But they had refused to deal with the truth... and perhaps it was for the best. The umans were a magnificent species and, had they been given the right amount of time, capable of space travel in a short amount of decades, even by their own standards. When they finally accepted Fon rule, they would be the most prized species in the Republic besides the Fon themselves.

But these new umans...

He activated the holographic image, and watched the images again. Plasma-based pulses... emerge from staff-like weapons, as well as electric-energy bolts. They used conventional bullets, as did the others. Also... also that specialized uman, the one with that blackened armor, a respectable color.

It was as if the Lord was watching over him, protecting him. Of course, the Fon Scientists, upon viewing this before he had (certainly they had the right,) had concluded that it was some sort of highly advanced force field, a protective barrier, that blocked the bullets. However, he preferred his as he was a faithful.

But it raised questions more than it answered.

How did the umans get that sort of technology?

From where?

How long did they have it?

Did more have the same technology?

For that, he was worried.


	6. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Stargate or any of other universes I'm going to crossover with…**

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**Reviews:**

**The Hidden Sith: Heh. Funny but that's how they call us… them…. **

**Aznblackhowling: Yes, I got that idea from 1632 and 1633. **

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**D: Here you go!**

**Just a Crazy Man: Hah, thanks Ratchet **

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**Soulless Reader: Thanks for your opinions. I hope this chapter is good as my previous one. Reed won't become a crazed religious dictator until for quite a while. But you'll see him begin to change, rather rapidly, with the knowledge of the Tok'ra in his mind, and his own ambitions mixed in. **

**Relvain Jenafuse: Oh the Race! I think the book you're looking for is DEATHDAY and EARTHDAY by the guy who wrote Halo: Flood. It was supposed to be based off them but I decided against it. **

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**THIS IS NOT A PARTICUALLY WELL DONE CHAPTER. IF YOU HAVE ANYTHING YOU CAN SEE BE CHANGED, PM ME OR TELL ME IN YOUR REVIEW. THANK YOU. **

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**Don't forget to review! It makes me happier to get reviews!**

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**Inspired by StarGate: Galactic Imperium » by VexMaster.**

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**Please, please, please, please, PLEASE, review! Even if you hate this story and want it burned for heresy, tell me. Give me your opinions, suggestions, criticism, hate mail and fan mail! PLEASE!**

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**Also read this: Clash of Empires... co-written with VexMaster.**

**Also read this: Stargate: Galactic Imperium… written by VexMaster**

**Also read this: Golden Dawn... written by Amann**

**Also read this: War of Gods and Men... written by Amann**

**Also read this: The Raid of the Twelve Colonies... written by me**

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**Go to my Forum if you have any ideas or anything you want to say!**

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_It cannot take decades to resurrect, we must act immediately with purpose and enthusiasm to rebuild._

**Alan Autry**

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**.**

"_All that is needed to set us definitely on the road to a Fascist society is war. It will of course be a modified form of Fascism at first…_" Reed smiled wryly. "Not that far off Flynn. But I don't need a war to unite people. I just need the knowledge and memories of an alien… and the alien threat." He smiled, amused. The Goa'uld had perfected fascism and had crafted it to suit their own megalomaniacal personas. He was simply adapting their form of a dictatorship for his needs.

Of course it wasn't just _his _dictatorship.

Oh no, the pressure was way too much. As the weeks passed and as the official Emperor of his tiny little domain, he learned that leadership wasn't all that be had imagined it to be. Work had been brutal. People had come to with suggestions and ideas, swamping him with questions and more. In the end, he'd chosen Rockwood and Kevin to support him in managing and organizing the Domain. They each took a third of the work load for him, and it actually made ruling a lot easier.

"Hail the Emperor!"

"Praise!"

"You're so cool!"

"Hey!"

Reed smiled, humored as the dozens of little kids praised him, shouting as they raised their hands, jumping up and down. They were of all colors, although most of them were white, which he expected considering where he rescued them from. He felt disgusted and angered when he saw what those inhuman-human had done in their little kingdom. Bastards, all of them, utter and complete bastards.

He saw a few women also praising him, nurses he had liberated. They were crying as they thanked for something he had done a month or so ago. Once free women turned into whores and then liberated, they had reason to thank him. He hadn't given them any mercy once he had discovered them. Subhuman animals, all of them, and he even surprised himself on how he had ordered their execution without the blink of an eye.

Even though he wanted his Empire to be a united and peace loving, he could not tolerate such actions. They deserved more than death, they deserved to die time and time again, but he didn't have a sarcophagus. But he had made sure the two bikers he had brought back from the Mall died slowly. He had made sure the barracks had been sealed off, and had made sure no one would hear their screams.

His stomach churned.

"Oh thank you, thank you!" One of them cried, falling to her knees. She was a pretty blonde, but she had a scar lining on her cheek from where she'd been cut.

He flinched.

"Thank you oh god thank you!"

He smiled gently as he closed the door behind him: "You're welcome, all of you!" He wore his robes, the ones he had worn when he first came to the house on the hill. He didn't need his armor, and his Kara Kesh was fine for the moment. "Your survival, your peace of mind, it is all wanted!"

He paused. "How is everything?"

"Fine, everything's fine!" The blonde women said, smiling.

He smiled back, "How so?"

"We have enough food and clothes and bed for everyone," she said, "and everyone here is so nice…"

Compared to bastards who used her, everyone was nice.

He growled.

Bastards.

He shook his head and thought.

While living conditions weren't what they used to be, understandable, they weren't as bad as they had been before. In the caves, they had lived in fear, and he had reinforced it because he rarely let his people out unless they fought or looked for others. But, confident that the Bugger's would bother or anyone else, he had allowed them to come out from the ground and spread to the homes.

Living conditions had improved as he began to have his people leave the underground caverns and reoccupy the houses on the top. Once that, he had them all scavenge for everything they found. They had recovered most of the people in the surrounding local area, and most had come to join him. A few hadn't, but they had come to see it his way eventually, through force or intimidation.

"Excellent. I presume the children are going to school?"

"Of course!"

He nodded, approving. "Excellent-education is one of the most important things now in these dark times, yes?"

"Uh uh," another woman said.

A flash of blue-white light erupted around him as he beamed himself away, much to the surprise of the children although a few of the women, used to him coming to check up on the children and them, were used to it. "Where'd he go mama?" One the children asked, looking up to the blonde.

"To help more people."

"Why?"

"Because that's his vision."

**.**

**.**

Reed appeared in his room, a small house that had a large lawn, but looked almost the same to the houses next to it and around it. He sat on a rocking chair, and the chair creaked as it rocked back and forth. He wondered who sat in it, and where he/she was. It wasn't 'cool' to be in a rocking chair like some old lady, but he liked it. He looked outside, the window in front of him and gazed out to his dominion. Sixty five homes… surrounding his 'palace,' people who were in awe of all that he had done!

He smiled.

It was midday, but the sky was already darkening. Oh well. He thought about everything going on so far. Almost two months since everything started, he had created himself a powerful dominion in the small part of Silver City. The outskirts were almost his, and the city was all that really remained. With the bikes and motorcycles he had, traveling wouldn't take as long. He had expanded his military force, since he didn't need people to look for other people now. His tunnel network spread to important areas, such as the school and some office buildings, and other stores. He drew on the memories of Korra to help him maintain order and security in his dominion.

He made sure the people were happy, and gave them as much as he could in order to appease them. However, he knew people weren't happy. He was a teenager, and there were adults (and a few other teenagers,) who wanted his place. Manning was his Guardian yes, but how long before he tried to launch a coup against him? With his Kara Kesh, they couldn't harm him, but only if he knew when they were going to betray him, and he couldn't see into the future so he would know.

He ruled with a Tin Fist, malleable but still relatively strong. He instilled loyalty and fear; he gave people something to hate-the aliens. He gave people something to love about the Dominion and it return, what did he want? Nothing than their obedience, even if most of them were going to probably fake it. However people had reacted differently that what he expected-his order had created almost blind loyalty. That was an unexpected side effect, but it wasn't one that wasn't unwelcome. If he could, he wouldn't have to worry about anything. He had Korra's memories, and he had seen the effects betrayal had. Interestingly enough, the rise of Apophis had been the Tok'ra fault.

Re, apparently, had been a Goa'uld System Lord. Often confused with Ra during Goa'uld rule over Earth, he had been a powerful System Lord with Falcon Guards, one of the reasons he had been confused with Ra. Apophis had served as an underling under Re, gaining victory after victory in his name. Through his victories, around the time the Tok'ra were created by their Queen, he had become a threat to Ra although he hid it well. The Tok'ra had gone after Re, unwilling to see another Goa'uld, especially one who was a hundred times worse, become the Supreme System Lord of the Goa'uld Empire. The Tok'ra, with agents spread around his military and cultivating allies in the human population, had led a rebellion against Re, similar to the rebellion on Earth.

But for all their planning, they hadn't anticipated one thing.

Apophis.

Grown lazy and used to power, Re had not anticipated betrayal. Apophis and a few loyal proto-Jaffa had led a coup against Re, taking over his Empire. He attacked the Tok'ra with a ferocity that Re never had, and while he had been forced to give up large parts of his Empire to other System Lords who had come in, taking advantage of the brief power struggle between Apophis and a few other underlings, he had created his Empire.

He could not grow lazy; grow happy with what he had now. He could not expose himself to weakness. He had been more paranoid than the average retired cop before Fate gave him the Al'kesh and all that he had now. He was growing soft with what was happening so far, with everyone praising him.

He sighed.

He focused on how he expanded so far. The clones were well on their way. With power generators he found in the Bikers homes, all stolen presumably, and cutting power to all of the Al'kesh non-vital systems, including the cloak, he had the possibility of having five fully matured Jaffa ready in a little more than two and a half years. He had underestimated on how much fuel there was left where he was, in the abandoned cars. There was more than enough to keep his generators on and fuel his cars.

He was also thankful for the Tok'ra Crystals. Since most of his people, but a few who were very paranoid (and of course his soldiers since the barracks was still underground,) lived above ground, they had little use for the underground network except as path ways to the school and other areas. He had closed some tunnels, and hid his Al'kesh underground, covering it up so only he could get in by beaming in.

The machine shop in the High School was a gold mine of useful things, and with the tools from dozens of houses, metals and plastics from anything and everything, they had militarized the motorcycles. They had put armor plating on the motorcycles, and had, after a few days of test and trial and attempts (resulting in one exploding motorcycle,) they had tacked an Uzi/Zat's to each motorcycle.

But motorcycles and bikes were like… speeders in Star Wars. Light and fast, able to travel between the roads and alleys, but not well armed or armored, and quite easy to destroy. He needed something better, something armored and powerful. They had all sorts of cars around, and a lot of them still worked, and a lot still had gas in them. Gas stations were empty, but cars, the ones that had been left behind during the rush to get away from the alien invasion, were full of gas thank god.

He smiled.

SUV's!

When the time came, it would be enjoyable to use them against the fucking Buggers and anyone who stood in his way. He had modernized his army as best as he could, since he needed to depend on them to stop any possible attack in the far off future, if anyone decided on attacking them, despite how few of them, his soldiers, there were.

Zat's and pistols were secondary weapons, while the biker's assault rifles were their primary weapons now. The bikers had a large arsenal of illegal weapons, but a lot of standard stuff you see on TV. They had a lot of pistols of course, mostly Desert Eagles and Beretta's. But they also had Uzi semiautomatics and, in the spirit of clichés, the infamous Tommy gun - old but reliable weapons. They'd also found AK-47's, M-16's and a couple of M14's. By god, they'd also found a bazooka!

He had laughed at the find, privately of course. He had twenty seven people training and defending his Empire, or rather Dominion. It was small, but that didn't include the eight he had to drive his armored SUV's. They also served as troop carriers, something where the motorcycles and bikes failed. That was a very useful thing he knew. There was also the elementary school, which Boyace Black, the teacher, had recommended after the destruction of the biker's fiefdom. Schools were valuable places, since a lot of stuff seemed to have been left there and untouched, papers, pencils, paper clips, books, desks, chairs, cabinets, chalk, and cleaning supplies.

He had tunnels now, to the High School, Elementary School, to an office building nearby that provided an excellent place to scourge for supplies and things, and a junkyard. Why a Junkyard, some had asked. His answer and been because of the all valuable and very useful metals that were there. With the machine shop at the High School making armor for the motorcycles and SUV'S and a few other things he hadn't told them, he could easily provide them with all the metal they wanted.

He had also sent people, himself included since he had to show that was willing to help during these dark times, to search the stores and Deli's and other places. A lot of meat had gone rotten already, and a lot of soda's and vegetables. But there were still a lot of goods, candies and junk food, drinks and liquid ice creams. He didn't want his… public (he felt giddy thinking that,) to get fat, but they had to eat.

Besides…

Who could resist chocolate?

The area around him, Silver City (which was more of a town than an actual city, quite funny actually,) had more to offer than he had initially believed. There was so much he hadn't seen or noticed before, stores that he never cared about. At Granada Crescent, there were two Appliance stores (and many other less-important stores,) that he never knew existed. The metals there were good, and served multiple purposes. Sadly though, it took time to get from where he was to there.

He shook his head. With roads cracked and some blocked, the majority blocked, by cars left behind or rubble and rocks, it was hard to move around. Tree's had fallen to block roads or fell on homes. Wires were sprayed dangerously on the ground or hanging from poles. Without clear roads, traveling with cars was almost impossible. Going from one place to another took much longer. Motorcycles could travel between gaps but… they just weren't suited for the tasks, and they had to conserve gas as well. A post-alien invasion town was dangerous as hell. His… Bike Calvary, as some had come to call it (he preferred Bike Corps but oh well,) was okay for local purposes, but couldn't go far. The High School wasn't too far away, by car, but it was at least a day or two away.

He frowned.

Was that a contradiction?

He shook his head and focused on another issue.

He was still pissed about the locked doors on the Al'kesh he still hadn't found the pass code he needed to open them yet. Ba'al had modified the Al'kesh, being that Korra had memories of other Al'kesh that didn't have so many rooms and secret doors. His Dominion wasn't too big, sadly. From the hill where he had met the Jerome's, he had expanded down to where he used to live… Oh God…

He shook his head.

A lot of homes had been crushed by trees or poles or large rocks (where they came from he was still wary about,) so people lived farther apart than they normally would. But they were still _close _even though his 'border' was barely a border. Thanks to the Tok'ra Crystals though, his domain was far bigger than it was above ground. He had access to different parts of Silver City and White Plains. Still though, travel took time, but it was worth it with everything that he was making and doing. In time, however, he'd find a way to open the door. He'd tried dozens of combinations, but none of them had worked. Strange enough, the keys weren't numbers, but the symbols used on the Stargate. He'd used dozens of gate addresses, but none of them worked. He had a feeling that it was supposed to be so easy, that he was trying too hard. But he didn't know, didn't understand.

However, now that he had expanded his domain, he needed to focus on getting more technology and help for his ideal Empire. He had repaired the Al'kesh Naquadah Power Generator as best as he could, using what he had and what Korra knew. It wasn't difficult, and he had been surprised at how much power had surged through some of the repaired conduits when he'd finished. However it wasn't much, and he needed more to repair it completely. Also, while he still had plenty of Naquadah in the core, when it ran out, he'd be forced to use the weapons-grade Naquadah which wasn't excellent fuel (ironic really,) and neither were the staff weapon power cores. He needed pure refined Naquadah, liquid or solid.

But where was he going to get that?

He rocked back and forth, thinking.

He also had to get the message to the alternate Stargate-Universe. Through Korra's memories, he had learned a lot about the SG Universe he came from, and how it diverged from the 'Prime SG' verse.' The Battle of Langara had been one of the Divergences. Anubis had gone on a rampage, drawing Jaffa to him away from the Jaffa Rebellion out of fear. Earth had been attacked as in the series, but there had been three Jaffa Ha'tak's and one Tok'ra Ha'tak in orbit to help. Dakara had gone the way it had in the series up until after the Replicators had been eradicated. The SGC destroyed the Super Weapon to prevent Anubis from taking it, but at the cost of a lot of Jaffa and Tok'ra too who had fallen holding off the Kull Warriors Anubis sent to take the weapon. He groaned, and pressed the tips of his fingers to his head and rubbed his forehead.

God his head _hurt_.

He didn't remember… Carter, yeah, Carter, having this sort of pain when she took in that Tok'ra's memories. But Korra was an old Tok'ra, a really old Tok'ra. Maybe it was because he had centuries of memories in him. And in the Tok'ra, there as another difference from the Stargate World he knew. The Tok'ra used sarcophagus to extend their lives and heal themselves, abet sparingly.

Smart.

_Very_ smart.

The DSC-304 _Daedalus _had been launched just after Earth had been attacked and before the Dakara strike, and had spearheaded attacks on Anubis and Ba'al. With Asgard technology, and no Asgard to oversee them, they had damaged Anubis' fleets. They strapped on Staff Cannons and other sorts of alien technology to make it more of a killing ship, capable of going head-to-head with a Ha'tak or two. The same with the 303, which was more of a real warship than the ship it had been before.

One of Korra's memories involved him being on the bridge of the _Prometheus _itself while it fought on equal terms with one of Anubis's enhanced Ha'tak's. Besides from those two ships, the SGC was supported by a fleet-based Jaffa Rebellion and the Tok'ra, which had become more aggressive. Korra had participated in several raids himself, mostly in stealing Ha'tak's and Al'kesh, liberating thousands of humans to man Gliders and fight battles on the ground, although most of his missions were spying on the Goa'uld and sending back information to his superiors and the SGC.

Then Korra's memories went into what would lead him to steal Ba'al's Al'kesh, and his death on his Earth.

He yawned.

Wow-no wonder Grandma's always fell asleep… on these…

He blinked…

He was very… tired…

…

…

_A man occupied his vision. _

"_People of my most holy Empire" The man cried as he spoke to a mass of aliens and humans in a vast room. The man was on a disk hovering in the middle of a bottomless cavern in the room, and the crowds, several crowds, were arrayed in a semi-circle in the room. They were a mix of different colors and races, all cheering. "The time of unity has come now to spread to all of the Chosen!"_

"_Hail!"_

"_Hail!"_

"_Hail!"_

_The man paused for a dramatic effect. _

_His burning red eye holes of his mask flashed as he spread his arms to his side, his cape fluttering behind him. His armor glistened in the dim light, and there was a circle with a cross in it at the center of his breastplate. His armor clung to his body, as if it were a second skin rather than a suit. He commanded an air of authority and power, of age and strength, of knowledge and power. _

_The shadows twisted around his feet, clung to his figure while the light bent around him. _

_He seemed confident in his words. _

_He also seemed familiar. _

"_This is the moment," he roared, his voice magnified, "of which we have spent centuries preparing. The Lord, He of great mercy and destruction, has given me, his most favored and cherished of Sons, to complete a task he set before the creation of our universe and all those who embrace our love. Our time is now here, to bring the light of His Holiness to unbelievers and heretics!"_

"_Hail!"_

"_Hail!"_

"_Hail!"_

_The man smiled._

_He shivered. _

_Who _was _this man? And where was he?_

_The answer came immediately: the City of Light. _

_The shadows twisted around him, clinging to his form as a tiny ball of fire erupted in midair in front of him, and expanded to form a bird-shaped symbol. A cross erupted from the center of the bird, and a ring formed from the edges of the cross. The symbol solidified, and became crystallized._

_It was amazing…_

_The thousands, possibly million or more, aliens and humans, and machines as well praised his name and... _

"_We have endured for centuries under darkness while we searched for the light, and I lived in darkness before I found the path that revealed who I truly was! Our dream, my vision for all of the believers, has started! From the ashes of hell I have risen to bring life and peace and unity to all!"_

_He curled his hands into fists, and thunder crackled from nowhere._

"_Hail!" He cried._

"_Hail the Hierarch!"_

…

…

…

Reed awoke, sweating.

The sky had darkened considerably as he looked out, and he saw a few flickers of light here and there, from candles. He rubbed his eyes, his heart thumping wildly. His eyes flickered to the corners of the room, activating his Kara Kesh personal shield without realizing he had done so, out of reflex.

What a… strange dream?

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_Year 2014 AD (After Death) ACE (After Common Era)_

_Year 2 AI (After Invasion)_

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"What do we have?"

Emperor Alexander walked into the Barracks, cables running from the walls from his Al'kesh to the twelve Mac's and four Dell Laptops clustered at the crystalline walls. Ah computers-what an amazing gift of the modern world. His memories had the knowledge of not just some Goa'uld technology, but also of the alternate SGC's technology, being that the BC-303 and DSC-304 were a mix of different technologies, and even the advanced 304 needed constant maintenance and repair.

This wasn't hard.

There was no internet though, and you couldn't use the phones, however. But they good for hacking into the somewhat complex defense programs the Buggers had on their ships. They had found many things that were interesting, even if they didn't understand squat about the Bugger's language. Strangely, it looked somewhat similar to a fairly modern Goa'uld dialect, a cross between Sumerian and Egypt with some Greek. But he couldn't make any sense out of it-it was all gibberish.

Army Captain Rockwood and Major Kevin were at the monitors, and so were two other people, former teachers. They were trying to understand translate the language with what he had given, but they were making slow, _very _slow progress. But they also had pictures and images to see. If pictures told a thousand words, then movies and clips showed millions if not billions, even if they couldn't understand the language. The qualities of the clips, the videos, were amazing, he thought.

In India and China, for example, there were the largest resistances against the Buggers. In Russia, the Buggers had gone against not just modern tanks, but ancient World War 2 tanks and millions of Russian soldiers. They were still going against them, and the Russians were winning there since their leadership hadn't been completely eliminated (not like the US) and they still had some nuclear weapon capability. The fact that the weather also went against the Buggers helped a lot.

Buggers…

Based on the data he hacked from the Bugger's, 'Bugger's' wasn't quite that accurate of a word. The Buggers were sort of the leaders, their Generals and presidents and what not, while their soldiers were two different races. Grey aliens, Asgard look-alikes, served as canon fodder along with reptilian aliens, a little bigger than a 10-year old. He'd been wrong that the Buggers were the only species invading Earth. There were three alien species invading Earth, and the Bugger's were just the ones leading it. Actually, that still meant that the Buggers were invading Earth.

Africa was, apparently, subdued with some resistance in South Africa and Egypt, especially in Ethiopia. Africa had suffered the least amount of deaths to the aliens-most of the dead were coming from the resistance. Africans were enjoying alien rule since they weren't 'oppressed' by the West. In South America, the only major cell of resistance left was in Brazil with the rest having been crushed.

Last but not least, there was North America.

Mexico was pacified, and Canada had given way. The US Government didn't exist anymore, and the majority of the military bases (the same across the world,) had been completely destroyed. The major cells of resistance were in Texas and mostly in New England; the only MAJOR source of resistance in the South was led, ironically, by the KKK. His own force wasn't a resistance; at least it was resisting the Bugger's. Not yet anyway. He wasn't stupid-he was nowhere near ready to completely declare 'war.' And he didn't even _want _to declare war, or fight until he was 100% sure he could win. The two other resistance groups, however, were resisting the Buggers. _'Even if they are doing it somewhat badly,' _Reed thought with some amusement

He had been surprised he hadn't found them before. Of course, he had only looked around the local area, and he hadn't really looked beyond that except for supplies. But still, the three other groups were larger than his group and better equipped if barely. Rockwood turned around, tearing his eyes from the gold mine of data on the computer screens. "As I said, what do we have?"

"Major General Joseph Tu still doesn't like us," the man sighed. "Don't know why to tell you the truth, but he just doesn't." He paused. "Maybe it has to deal with the fact that his people like us better."

"That could be it," Manning agreed, walking into the room.

Reed grinned.

In the two years and few months since he started, he had made sure that he had become a force to be reckoned with. While small, less than a hundred people, he had a living standard higher than the three other 'powers.' As soon as contact was made with the National Guard base, the Police Kingdom and the other Gang nation, people flocked to him. Not really flocked-more like a 'trickle.' Or maybe a drizzle-but either way, people came. With his industry kicking off, thanks to the reactivation and use of a nearby factory (nearby being at least a day away with Motorcycles or a SUV,) he had been able to get electrical lightning for homes again, and repair his Al'kesh a bit, enough for it to gain flight again although for a short period of time, three hours or so.

Of course he hadn't flown it yet….

Korra's memories were very useful. Using the internal combustion engines from the cars that dotted the streets, he had done things using Korra's memories (and some of his own Sci Fi fan dreams,) that the Major General envied. One example would be the Gatling Staff's. By cutting down eight staff weapons in half and adding an electric motor, he'd created the 'modern' Gatling gun. The process was more complicated than that of course, and they still had problems firing them all at once, but progress was going surprisingly quick for a post-apocalyptic civilization, and he had earned the loyalty and respect of the newcomers. His military was very powerful, even if he didn't have a lot of people. Only one time before had he been attacked by someone else since he started.

He smiled mentally.

"Is there anything else?"

"Chief Rojas just agreed to our terms," Manning said. "Since the Headquarters isn't too far away, he's willing to connect the Headquarters' to our tunnel network. But he wants to be the 'governor' of his fiefdom."

"Is that all he's asking in return," Reed asked, very much surprised. He wanted to be called a Governor? That was stupid – it was just a title. Rojas, from the only time he met the man, seemed to be ambitious. When Manning nodded, Reed nodded back. A useless title, but he didn't want to actually lead yet. He'd have to have a few people watch over the Chief for any signs of betrayal. But the man was smart, very smart, and he knew who to follow. "Give him that, but he answers to me, get that clear to him. And have his officer's report here, half of them at least for training."

"I'm lost," Kevin grunted.

"His Majesty," there was a slight sneer in Manning's voice which Reed ignored as usual, "made an offer to my former chief. Rojas can lead the Police Department, but creating a civilization is way too big for him, unlike Reed here." Reed smiled at that, even though everything he had done was thanks to the advanced technology he had, and the fact that they had scourged and made everything they had. Food was still an issue, though less since they started growing their own food. "His Majesty offered Rojas support in keeping his 'kingdom' as he called it, together if he would acknowledge Alexander Reed as his 'Emperor' and absolute monarchy."

Manning smiled.

"And he said yes."

"Where does that leave us," the Army Major asked.

"With at least a hundred plus people, food and access to trained officers," Reed said, "and more power. You know, as well as I do, that the Major General has a desire to gain access to our weapon technology. He's copying us as well with what he has. And since he has more people and better things, he's doing it faster than we did. He already has thirty SUV/LAC's, better ones than the ones we have, and, from what we saw with your drones, he already has built his equivalents to our Gatling Staff's and is still building more. They also have a larger troop number, not counting their 'militia,'" he said.

Reed closed his eyes.

The National Guard was across the Hudson River, on the other side of the Tappan Zee Bridge, safe from any attack. His scouts, recently returned, had seen the Guard building a barricade on their side of the bridge, a constant armed guard to watch them. The National Guard, as far as he knew, was large and powerful but he didn't know _how _large. When he had met with the Major General he had been awed by the imposing military guard that had followed the Major General, and it scared him. They could _challenge _him. He always believed, thought, that the aliens were the biggest threat. It never actually struck him until now that Rockwood nodded. "True. By the way, what did you think about my idea?"

"Possible and in motion," Reed said, sitting down on a chair in the corner of the Barrack's, reclining a bit. The Barrack's was virtually empty, and only the Army officers, his Guardian, and the two others were in it. His soldiers were off adjusting to their new Staff Rifles and home-made grenades. The new Rifles were Staff Weapons that had been cut down to a more reasonable size with a pistol grip, a stock, and a crude iron sight. While unable to fire as fast as Assault Rifles, Staff Rifles were designed to do what Staff Weapons were meant to do: instill fear and cause terror in your enemies.

"How do they work?"

"Slow firing, but the soldiers have gotten used to them," Reed said, remembering the last time he saw them.

"What of the 'Crowned King,' what does he say to my offer," Reed asked, even though he knew the answer. For such a pompous title like that, they had to arrogant. The 'Silver Lords' as they called themselves were a small time group, not much bigger than his group. They weren't as smart as his group either, but they were smart enough, at least they thought of themselves as smart.

"Rejected it as soon as they heard it," Manning said. He had sent the offers to three other powers himself. "Their Crowned King is a fucking idiot."

"Of course he is," Reed said.

Rockwood grinned.

"What do we do?"

"Nothing," Reed said, "we have no need for them for the moment. With the Police part of the Dominion, we're set. The National Guard's base is the only threat to us besides the aliens, but they're not going to challenge us. Well, not yet anyway." He paused and thought about what he had said. "Not for a while, I'd say. A few more years', maybe, he'll probably attack us. But still…"

He frowned.

His greater focus for the moment however, was the Bugger Camp that held so many slaves and workers. He needed to secure his hold in Silver City, before he could make any move against the Buggers or the National Guard. "Go with your jobs," he said as he left, thinking about what he should do next.

He had underestimated how much knowledge he knew, that Korra had known. He had also underestimated just how much actual useful knowledge was in those books from the store. A further exploration and scourging of the area had given them seeds and coupled with the books on how to farm and plant, on how to make simple water purifiers, had given them food grown from the ground. To grow food the old fashioned way, like settlers in a new county, without having to buy it from a supermarket, now that had been a miracle.

He wondered…

"What sort of… um, military does the King have?"

"Bikers, nothing else. Why?"

Reed smiled sadistically.

"Because we're going to war."


	7. Chapter 7

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Stargate or any of other universes I'm going to crossover with…**

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**Reviews:**

**Cklammer: Heh, Benevolent… **

**Aznblackhowling: The Al'kesh that Reed has now was filled with weapons and armor and a variety of things. The Gatling Staff's are indeed staff weapons strapped together to form a rapid-fire weapon. **

**Soulless Reader: Thank you! US is down in the dumps right now, basically it died when the President and Vice President were all killed. Oh there are EU countries, but I forgot to mention them…. Russia counts doesn't it? **

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**Don't forget to review! It makes me happier to get reviews!**

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**Inspired by StarGate: Galactic Imperium » by VexMaster.**

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**Please, please, please, please, PLEASE, review! Even if you hate this story and want it burned for heresy, tell me. Give me your opinions, suggestions, criticism, hate mail and fan mail! PLEASE!**

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**Also read this: Clash of Empires... co-written with VexMaster.**

**Also read this: Stargate: Galactic Imperium… written by VexMaster**

**Also read this: Golden Dawn... written by Amann**

**Also read this: War of Gods and Men... written by Amann**

**Also read this: The Raid of the Twelve Colonies... written by me**

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**Go to my Forum if you have any ideas or anything you want to say!**

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"War is cruelty. There is no use trying to reform it. The crueler it is, the sooner it will be over"

**General William T. Sherman**

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_Year 2015 AD (Anno Domini) ACE (After Common Era)_

_Year 3 AI (After Invasion)_

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His face turning red in anger and embarrassment, the current leader of the National Guard sat in the wooden chair offered to him, flanked by the two masked guards at his side. He shifted nervously, unable to look "Don't fidget my Lieutenant Colonel," the shadowy figure in front of him said. The young man wore an elaborate robe, sitting behind a desk like he ruled the whole world.

"Would you mind moving your SS away then?"

"To me," the 'Emperor' said.

"My Emperor," the two drones said together, marching away from him. Their black armor blended in with the shadows that seemed to center on his foe, on his rival. It added a certain chill to the scenario, and it served its purpose very well. He was most certainly intimidated by the scenario. They pressed their right fists over their hearts and stamped their armored feet on the floor.

'_He's probably enjoying himself right now,' _the Colonel thought bitterly,_ 'the little Fascist Hitler wannabe.' _In fact Reed was enjoying the sight, and he briefly wondered if he had lost some of his sanity.

"Lieutenants Colonel Karson," the man said, leaning forward. He stared at the Lieutenant Colonel, who was too busy trying to keep some dignity in his posture. "I'm going to be a bit formal here. As the representative leader of the National Guard of the 101st Signal Battalion, you are here to surrender your area of government, your people and your weapons to the Greater Dominion. For every one of my people lost, we will kill ten of yours. You and any surviving leadership will be tried for crimes against the Greater Dominion as well as starting this little… war."

He paused dramatically.

'_Ego bastard,' _he thought angrily.

"Do you accept my terms?"

'_What else am I supposed to say?' _"Fuck no!" He spat. "The 101st still has a lot of fight left in them, and we'd rather die than live under a Hitler-wannnabe!"

Reed was taken aback.

"Why do you want to waste the lives of your people?"

"No, listen here boy. I won't be listening to anymore of his bull you keep preaching. All I see in you is a Communist-Fascist dictator who thinks he's going to free the world. Isn't that what you said on the radio? '"My fellow man, my name is Alexander Reed and I'm here to set you free!"' He said it sarcastically. "You may have more people who are blindly following you, but we have something to fight for - our Freedom, our respect and the great traditions of these United States!"

"Don't act all patriotic on me," Reed shouted, "I may not be some politician or a soldier, but I love my country too! But look around you-where is the United States? Its dead-it's dead and gone forever! You may not like what I'm doing, but isn't it working? There is a real government here now!"

"A Dictatorship!"

"Why do you continue to fight?"

"Why do you continue to conquer?"

'Because it's something I **need **to do,' Reed thought, 'damn it Korra.' Korra hadn't been a good Tok'ra. Under the guise as an Underlord in the service of the System Lords, he had personally lead armies of Jaffa against enemies, wiping out entire worlds. Korra had actually liked it.

And that part of Korra had become intertwined with him.

"My forces number in the hundreds. In the short period of time I've been in power, I've created a nation of followers. You have a lump left-you can't beat me. Your people put up a good fight, but it's over.

"Accept that."

The man glared at him, defiant. Then he dropped his pose. "Fine."

Reed smiled. "Good."

He turned off the recorder and stood up. The Colonel stared at him as Reed opened the door, pausing. He closed his eyes. 'Sorry, but I don't need you right now. I never need you. You would only stand in my way.'

Oh well.

"Oh, and kill him."

**.**

**.**

He sometimes wondered if he was insane. But then, he would reassure himself that he wasn't and he'd be happy again. Oh yes he was quite sure he had lost some of his sanity, but not a lot. At least he thought he did. Often he would talk to himself, arguing with himself on ideas and such, on how to run his Dominion. The Dominion wasn't his anymore though, although he was still considered its leader. He had a government for the Dominion, based on the British Parliamentary System. He couldn't run his little Empire alone, and even if he could he wouldn't be able to do it.

He just wasn't skilled enough. '_Smart enough either. I ain't a politician. But I'd make a good one with all the allies I've been saying. I do say smart lies though so that they're partially based off the truth._'

His forces had gone to occupy the skin of territory that the 101st had claimed on the coast of the Tappan Zee, the Hudson River. On the maps, it looked small. But in real life, that amount of land was _huge_. And it was also a gold mine of things that the 101st hadn't had time to use for the war.

Still, the war had lasted long enough to kill almost a hundred soldiers in his army, and completely destroy his Bike Calvary and a large part of his Armored Car Force. He had really underestimated how willingly the 101st had been to fight. He hadn't expected people whose job was to send and relay message to put up such a fight. But then again, he'd never imagine that Stargate was actually real.

Life was strange for him now.

It had been for quite a while.

The 101st had a rather big industry and had expanded on since he had taken out the two nearby alien camps.

The liberation hadn't been too difficult-his Al'kesh was superior in every way to the ships the aliens used, and his forces had completely taken the minimal alien presence by surprise. Especially with the armor they had, it hadn't been too difficult. The lack of the aliens had allowed him and the 101st to build up, and now that he controlled the NG territory, it was helping him.

It had taken some convincing but the people that had lived under the rule of the National Guard come to accept him, most of them unwilling especially after the executions had had ordered on them. Still, living standards had risen and with the Bugger's afraid of him, he felt as if he had done well.

'_Not really afraid._'

Oh no, the Buggers were still powerful and he knew they were watching him. But they were cautious about him, since he had liberated two labor camps. Thousands of people had been freed and joined him. Not because they wanted to (although most did,) but because he had the only thing resembling a government nearby. And with all of those people working for him, led to issues, namely food.

But that was an issued solved.

Like China who should have had an Industrial Revolution in the 1500's, he put his new workforce to use. Fanaticism worked well, and he had nurtured it. Oh he wished he was more than a figurehead with barely any political power. He had a feeling that some of the people that the people had chosen to represent them were against him, although that was just was a feeling-it was impossible.

Why?

Reed stepped into his Al'kesh, and opened one of the doors.

So amazingly simple, the combination. He had felt so stupid not realizing what it was. But he had opened nonetheless, a bit too late. The war with the 101st had cost him dearly, but he had done even so. And he had won, hadn't he? The benefits did outweigh his losses, and he had gained a lot. With a hiss, the door parted, showing a dark room. It looked like a tomb, and he felt a gust of air hit him. He felt a chill go up his spine, but he ignored it. It wasn't so unfamiliar now as it was the first time. As soon as he set his foot in the room, the lights flickered on automatically. He saw row after row line the walls, like a library. But instead of books or DVD's or magazine, there were small vials group in fours, with space between each group the size of one vial.

Walking over to one of the cases, he pulled a vial from its group.

Reed held up the small vial, holding it delicately as he stared in wonder at the gas-based organism floating in it. So much power in a little organism, the nish'ta, he reflected as he looked at the wall in front of him. He counted two hundred vials, each of them holding a single nish'ta, which was more than what he needed, just on this case alone. The walls curved, and so did the cases.

Each case had at least 200 vials. He would have to limit how much he used it since there were possibly a million of survivors in the United States alone, maybe in just the East Coast, and that didn't count the rest of the world… and he would have to remove the Zat's from his army of course. He smiled greedily. He had used quite a few vials to remove opposition against him, a subtle way of killing of his foes. Again, he wondered if he had really gone insane. Killing wasn't something you took in so easy.

Was it?

'_It gets the job done, and it doesn't bother me too much_,' he frowned. '_Hmm… maybe I am a bit insane?_'

He shrugged.

_~Sir? ~_

"Yeah? What is it?" He said, picking up his slightly modified walkie-talkie.

_~Sir, Mr. Harry Wallace is waiting for you. ~_

"Who is he again?"

"The newly Minister Sir," came the reply.

Oh yes. "I'll be on my way."

He grabbed one of the vials and vanished in a beam of light and reappeared movements later, stepping out of the glittering and fading lights. "Mr. Wallace," Reed said, plastering a smile on his face, "A pleasure to see you."

"Cut the chit chat," the balding man growled, wearing a pressed black suit. They were in his room which was constantly being cleaned by his servants. "Let's get straight to business here now!"

"Right, so, what do you want?"

"You have to stop-"

"Shut up."

"Excuse me?"

"Listen, you don't like the way I'm… running this place, right?"

"You bet I don't! You've got everyone under some mind control. You've they turned the Police into your own SS! People are afraid to walk out of their homes because they think you'll kill them! My God, you're a tyrant!" The man was blustering, flushed. Reed wondered how he was still alive.

"Tell me-what makes you think I'll let you oppose me? Oh, and the people who are afraid-aren't they all people like you? People who want to be in charge, who want to kill me off my… throne, for lack of a better word?"

The man's eyes widened.

"I have eyes in many places, and spies everywhere," Reed said darkly, raising the vial so the man could see it.

"What is that?"

"This? Oh, this is a nish'ta," he said carelessly, removing the top. He blew gently, and the biological organism brushed against the man's face, and seeped into his nose, his gaping mouth and his ears. "You will obey me," Reed said coldly, "you will never disobey my authority and you will tell me who is against me, all of the names. You will refer to me as your Emperor. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand," the man whispered, his eyes glazing over. Then he began to spill his guts, revealing everything.

Reed smiled. He quite liked manipulation people, although it was too much of a hassle. People who manipulated everything had to be a control freak, and in no shape or form was a control freak.

Now then, to business. He could let Prime Minister Wallace do his job, which was doing what he wanted. He opened a drawer and pulled out his only visual communication probe, courtesy of the Goa'uld. He paused and glanced at Wallace who was still standing there. "What are you doing here? Go; go do whatever your job entails."

"Yes Emperor!"

'_Idiot,' _he thought.

"Manning."

His trusted Guardian saluted as his image shimmered on the ball. He didn't worry about revolt anymore, now that he has a fanatical army and some of the best bodyguards Goa'uld technology could get. "Round up your best and get to Franklin Drive. First house on the right, and make it as covert as you can. Put those poor people out of their misery," he added to make himself feel better.

"Yes sir."

"**Go, your God Commander You."**

"My Emperor?"

Reed blinked. "What?"

"Are you… okay?"

"Of course, I am! Why are you waiting there? Go do your job!"

"Yes sir."

Reed frowned and wondered what that was all about.

_._

_._

_Year 201 AD (Anno Domini) ACE (After Common Era)_

_Year 5 AI (After Invasion)_

_._

_._

_My Empire is unchallenged. Those who stood against me and my people have fallen aside and have been broken. The years of passed and still I am unchallenged. Few dare stand up to me because I'm feared. My enemies have withered away, bowing before me. I've expanded, and liberated my people from the camps that the Buggers held them in. I've created life where there had been destruction, and recreated society from the ashes of its past. Thousands of people live under my benevolent rule, and the world stares in amazement at what I've done, even as bigger powers wage war._

_As they destroy, I rebuild. _

_The Buggers fear me and my power-they fear me knowledge and the 'mystical' technology that I possess. How can they not fear me, after I use their blood to power the Goa'uld technology that I have with me? How can they not want to wish me away after I destroyed two of their camps, and damaged one of their Motherships? After I destroyed one of their Airships and damaged another? _

_Can you really blame them? _

_My Dominion…. My EMPIRE is everlasting. I control White Plains; I control an entire city and more. I may not be the most powerful being resistance in the world, but I am the far most advanced and smartest out of all of them. Can the KKK in south say the same? Can Russia, India, China, Germany, Britain or anyone else say that? They are scattered, warlords fighting the aliens and themselves at the same time. _

_Not I. _

_I've created order and civilization, something for y people to fight in, fight for, to believe in and die for. The skies are mine, and soon the land, and then the stars… and so much more belongs to me. _

_The time will come. _

_._

_._

'_Very _ominous_ and fitting, a bit dramatic but I like it,' Reed thought, smiling. 'Yeah, definitely dramatic… maybe a bit too much- What do you think? Why are you asking me? I'm you so it doesn't really matter…' _His smiled widened. So talking to him was a sign of insanity, but it a good kind. Not that bad kind that made him wants to conquer and destroy and abuse people to no end.

Right?

He stood up, and waited, nervous as Manning, in full Jaffa armor, stepped up to the podium and gazed upon the mass of people sitting in the county center. He raised his hand for silence and the murmurs died. He lowered his hand and cleared his throat, raising his chin. "The Emperor speaks."

Reed smiled as he walked to the podium in a black suit, something he found and been saving for something like this. Ba'al's clothing was a bit too big and too dramatic for this sort of occasion. "Was it only five years ago that all of this began, that the aliens tore apart our lives and made us scavengers in what used to be long to us? But in five years, I came and I rescued you all. I found the path meant for me and I took it, and look at what I've done! We're safe because of me; we're safe because the aliens are afraid of our technology, of our might. We aren't just surviving, we're _thriving_! But why do we keep this prosperity to ourselves? We aren't the richest in the world, but we are amongst the few who are living while the world scurries. It is destiny, destiny that we have to go outward. And we will, but not with me." He paused for them to suck that in.

As predicted, everyone started shouting.

Reed waited.

After a few moments he raised his hand and slammed it on the podium. Suddenly everyone became quiet in the packed and stuffy room. "I don't mean to say I won't stay, but I can't share our gifts alone. You all have your jobs and know what you're supposed to do. The aliens are afraid of us, and they rightfully fear us. I will go, but when I return, I will return with the tools needed to relieve the world of the alien menace, and begin the work that is needed to rebuild our society to new heights!"

He pumped his fist into the air. "FREEDOM!"

"FREEDOM!" They shouted back.

"FREEDOM!" He screamed.

"FREEDOM!"

"My name is Alexander Reed," he bellowed, over the chant, "and I'm here to set you free!"

_._

_._

He had been busy since his speech.

Oh he meant-he was going to expand, but not because he wanted to share the illusion of the prosperity he had created. Things were still terrible, and that was because of some of the knowledge that had been lost (valuable people who knew them were dead,) and because the outskirts of a city and a city itself weren't actually built to last. Even now, they were beginning to crumble, just half a decade since they were abandoned. Still, people ignored that and he _was _working on them.

But the reason he was expanding was because he had vision. He wanted everything, and by that he meant he wanted the world, the galaxy and the universe. But why would he stop at one universe when he could expand to others. He had studied the Quantum Mirror-look alike and while he didn't understand anything about it, (Korra had only stolen it, not studied it,) he knew how to use it

And oh would he use it!

He had activated a few times and

"Manning, are the troops ready?"

The balding man saluted: "Yes, they are. Sixty for men, as you requested. They're waiting for you on your ship."

Reed smiled. '_One step ahead… hmm… that makes you a bit dangerous to me, now doesn't it. You're a good soldier, a good follower. It would be a shame to have to kill you Manning. Would you kill yourself if I ordered you to, I wonder._' He didn't want to have to test that sort of idea out.

"You're in command of the Armed Forces now Manning," he said. "Protect the Prime Minister until I come back, and make sure the Bugger's stay a safe distance away. Do _not _let anyone but the Prime Minister take power. Keep the people afraid, but keep them happy as well, make sure they don't get… traitorous. If anyone tries to agitate a crowd, remove them in the night, understand?"

"Yes my Emperor!"

He beamed himself to the cockpit of the Al'kesh and grabbed the controls. In the co-pilot seat was the Quantum Mirror. He stroked it, and felt a tingling sensation. 'Time to go,' he thought as he activated the engines. 'But then why go so soon? Why not go out with a bang? Heh, I sound cooler in my mind.' The gentle hummed raged as the ungainly looking craft lifted itself as if by magic.

The Al'kesh flew into the sky, rumbling as it broke through invisible layers. He could have activated the cloak, but he wanted the aliens to see him. He armed the dual plasma cannons as one of the massive alien Motherships grew bigger in front of him. Unlike Science Fiction Ships, the alien ships were horrifyingly weak. Their hull was very thin and it didn't take much to puncture them. 'Oh look. It's the same ship I damaged before! Heh, I should finish the job,' he thought.

Several waves of the plasma blobs streaked across space and smashed against the hull of the alien Mothership. The armor burned away as explosions rippled across a small portion of its vast size. Reed fired the cannons again and the made a lucky shot. Burning through the armor just above where the Fusion Generators were, the generators exploded as the plasma bolts hit them, completely obliterating the ship in a single moment.

With that done, he pressed a button on the mirror.

Suddenly everything started to shimmer, and he saw a crisscross of intersecting and bisecting lines appear all over the ship, a multitude of colors… and after a moment, a bright light erupted from nowhere and everywhere, and he felt himself falling, falling down before the light wisped away and the feeling vanished.


	8. Chapter 8

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Stargate or any of other universes I'm going to crossover with…**

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**Reviews:**

**Cklammer: John Dalberg-Acton, 1st Baron Acton said that. And yes, it does doesn't it? He'll become worse and better in some ways as time goes on. I'm drawing parallels to our history. The last chapter and this part, I've taken parts from the Third Reich and the Soviet Union. **

**John777: Thank you. **

**Vanbor the Fire Mage: Thank you very much. **

**Dr. Sweetz: You ask and you get! **

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**Don't forget to review! It makes me happier to get reviews!**

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**Inspired by StarGate: Galactic Imperium » by VexMaster.**

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**Please, please, please, please, PLEASE, review! Even if you hate this story and want it burned for heresy, tell me. Give me your opinions, suggestions, criticism, hate mail and fan mail! PLEASE!**

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**Also read this: Clash of Empires... co-written with VexMaster.**

**Also read this: Stargate: Galactic Imperium… written by VexMaster**

**Also read this: Golden Dawn... written by Amann**

**Also read this: War of Gods and Men... written by Amann**

**Also read this: The Raid of the Twelve Colonies... written by me**

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**Go to my Forum if you have any ideas or anything you want to say!**

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When defeat comes, accept it as a signal that your plans are not sound, rebuild those plans, and set sail once more toward your coveted goal.

**Napoleon Hill**

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_Year 2015 AD (Anno Domini) ACE (After Common Era)_

_Year 3 AI (After Invasion)_

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**.**

Reed hated his luck.

'_Maybe traveling to this SG Universe wasn't such a good idea,_' he thought bitterly. '_I was doing better in my world, ruling my little domain. I was an Emperor back there-a figurehead yes, but an Emperor nonetheless. And now what am I? Oh right - I'm a fucking prisoner in the SGC!_'

Someone must have hated him.

He paced in the rather cramped holding cell deep beneath Cheyenne Mountain, glaring at the back of the head of the guard. Nothing had gone the way he had expected when he arrived in this dimension. He didn't know what to expect when he came, but it certainly wasn't being in jail. Oh how he wanted to hit that guard with a bat or…. Or… throw him against the wall like a rag doll with his Kara Kesh! Oh how he wanted to and yet he couldn't. What a tragedy it was indeed!

No, things didn't go as he wanted.

Nothing did.

After all, this was an Alternate version of the Stargate Universe as he knew it. He should have expected differences, but he didn't. '_And how stupid was I to think I could do whatever I wanted before I left,_' he thought. '_How naïve was I. Even with the knowledge Korra gave me, I still don't know anything._'

He sat on one of the free chairs and sighed. Too many things were different than from the series-too many things hadn't happed that should have happened, and too many things happened that shouldn't have occurred. It was impossible for him to do anything, and he felt genuine fear for his guardians.

Minutes passed and after a while of boredom, he thought back to the single moment that destroyed all of his plans here. '_A Secret World Government…. A secret war between Pure Evil and a Greater Evil… the perfect television series,_' He thought ironically. This wasn't fiction-this was all real.

He knew that too well.

**.**

**.**

_**Eight Hours Ago…**_

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_Reed gasped for breath._

_The shimmering light that had once enveloped the Al'kesh and his view quickly began to fade away, and stars began to appear on the large viewscreen. He blinked, and groaned. 'What the heck was that? That was some weird dream…' Suddenly he felt as if someone was laughing at him… someone bigger than him. A chill went up his spine and he felt the urge to scream in absolute horror._

_Why?_

_He didn't know._

"_Is everyone okay back there?"_

_~Yes sir! ~_

'_Fanatics-you just have to love them,' he thought. He gripped the controls of the craft and wondered then, what he was going to do. For the first time, he suddenly realized that he didn't have a plan. He did have a plan, but not fully thought out. An example would be that most of the worlds he knew about were far away and virtually all of them were either under the rule of the Goa'uld or were war zones between the Goa'uld. In fact though, he didn't even know what was going around in the galaxy. He wondered what year it was in the galaxy-he had been gone a while._

_Maybe it was 2015 too? _

_That would be interesting. _

_BOOM!_

_Reed gripped for dear life onto the controls as the entire spacecraft shook violently. Another explosion rippled against the shields of the Al'kesh. 'The shields are down to 22%' he thought painfully. The diagram was fuzzy, erratic. He could barely read the words himself. 'But what the hell hit us?' _

_The Al'kesh quivered again._

'_Damn it,' he thought furiously as he turned the Al'kesh around. He thought of warning his Guardians that he was about to do that but decided against it. They were, in the long run, expendable to him. He saw a missile streak past him, close enough so that he could see all of its details for a split second. He armed the underside cannons and fired two globs of plasma, striking a missile. The resulting explosion, which was too near, shook the Al'kesh violently and he gripped on the console for dear life as the shields fell. 'I won't die! I won't die! I WON'T DIE!'_

_~This is the United Earth Ship Odyssey, commanding officer Dave Kleinman to the pilot of the Al'kesh. Stand down and disarm your weapons. If you refuse to comply or attempt to flee you will be fired on. ~_

_That was a surprise._

_So was the 'United Earth Ship.' _

_And the commanding officer – Dave Kleinman? _

_He pondered on what he should do next, which was obvious. He was in a Al'kesh without shields, against what looked like a 304. That and a number of F-302's and what looked like a number of… Al'kesh? He grimaced. "I surrender, I surrender. Call of your Fighters-I won't run."_

_There was a pause._

_~Thank you for complying. ~ Was that sarcasm in his voice?_

_As soon as the fighters began to retreat, the shields began to recharge. He decided to take his chances-he charged the sublight engines and moved. The Hyperdrive began to whine and he heard Kleinman. _

_~Stand down or we will fire! ~ _

_He didn't plan to surrender. _

_Suddenly, the space in front of him began to shimmer, and lights began to flicker. 'I didn't arm the Mirror, did I?' He checked. No, it was still sprawled on the floor. He turned back to the screen and felt terror grip his heart. Materializing out of nowhere, a Goa'uld Ha'tak took form, the edges solidifying. _

'_Damn…'_

_He deactivated the Hyperdrive, which was far from actually being able to form a Hyperspace Window, and slowed the speed of his bomber. He didn't even manage to get far, and at that he sighed. "I promise I won't retreat," he muttered to the commander of the Alt-Odyssey. There was a flash of brilliant blue light behind him suddenly, and he heard the sound of guns behind him._

_He turned around and armed his Kara Kesh, a golden shield forming around him. 'Son of a gun… they beamed in,' he thought, shocked. There were three soldiers in drab gray uniforms aiming a small gun at him. The gun looked like a cross between the P90, a Staff Weapon and a Phaser. _

"_You can't hurt me," he taunted._

_Then one of them pulled out a knife._

"_Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Reed panicked. The image of O'Neill throwing a knife into Her'ur's hand came up. He lowered his hand and his shield. He raised them both, quivering like a child. 'So dramatic,' he thought. 'What sort of Emperor am I? You are a little baby,' his 'other' said starkly. _

_He ignored it._

_Two of the soldiers grabbed his arms and took off his Kara Kesh-forcibly. "You don't have to be so rough," he muttered. _

"_Shut it," one of them growled. _

_Then something hit the back of his head and he blacked out._

**.**

**.**

He had learned what happened to his Al'kesh and his Guardians.

The SGC had raided his Al'kesh, taking away everything of value. Then (he didn't know if they were joking,) slapped a SGC sticker on its side as part of its Fleet. And his Guardians had all been detained as well in some other part of the facility. A few, he heard, tried to fight back when they saw him. Those that fought back were dead. This version of the SGC he guessed wasn't as 'nice' as on TV. He continued to pace in the cell, bored out of his mind. He had so many things to do-he was wasting time here! He needed to get out, but then where would he go from here?

But then that led to the issue….

Where would he go?

He could go to that world were Daniel had gone insane thanks to the Sarcophagus. It was a primitive world with Goa'uld armor and weapons-and a sarcophagus to boot, perfect for him to suck dry. His mind began to work then. He'd re-create his Dominion there, make the people his followers. He'd kill off his enemies and take as much as he could on his Al'kesh. He'd like a Ha'tak even better though. With a Ha'tak, no one would be able to touch him-neither human or alien.

"So, what's your name?" He said at last, walking up the guard.

Nothing.

"Hello?" Nothing. "Do you even talk at all?"

Nothing.

God-he had made a big mistake coming here.

He sighed and sat on the measly thing they considered a bed. Although it was a Post-End Empire, he had lived much better in his world. He had a entire town, a city, to scavenge for personal things. God, he had a life back then. Minutes passed again, and he counted fifty six cracks in the ceiling, which made him worry if the ceiling would fall on his head. Couldn't the SGC fix their rooms?

"How is he Sergeant?"

"Annoying ma'am."

Reed perked-he knew that voice. '_But it can't be…_' "If only someone would talk to me, I wouldn't be so bored here," he commented, sitting on his bed. "And throwing me in a prison cell doesn't help at all."

The guard gave him a glance.

Without a doubt, Samantha Carter and, to his surprise, Daniel Jackson walked in. "Hey there," Reed said, barely hiding his surprise and glee. He may be in his early 20's, but Stargate was something he never forgot. They looked almost the same as in the show, except that they seemed a bit older. "So, you've come to let me go, give me back my Kara Kesh, my Guards and my Al'kesh?"

"No."

Reed smiled bitterly. "Thought so-so what brings you here?"

"We have to talk. Who are you?"

He could lie, but that wouldn't get him anything. He could refuse but that would only make things worse. "Alexander Reed."

"Where were you born?"

"Silver City, New York state," he droned.

"Hold on, what?"

"Can't you Mr. Jackson?" He drawled, "Silver City-"

"I heard. But you can't be from Earth!"

"I was and am."

"But you were in a Goa'uld Al'kesh," Carter pressed.

He nodded. "I was."

"So how can you be from Earth?"

He chuckled. "Who's to say I'm from your Earth?"

"What?"

"So you're telling me you're from another universe? Prove it."

"And how do you expect me to do that Colonel Cater?" Reed said, reclining back, starting to get bored. The glee of meeting two members of SG-1 was quickly waning, and now he was just getting annoyed. And bored-there was always boredom. "I mean, what can I do to prove I'm from an alternate reality?"

"Well," Daniel said slowly, "You can…"

"Why am I here?" He interrupted.

"You violated our space," Carter replied.

"Huh. But I don't pose a threat to you anymore-since you stripped me of everything I had," he added bitterly.

"We searched your Al'kesh though," Carter said. "There were a couple doors we weren't able to open. Mind telling us why?"

"Ba'al had then locked," he lied, shrugging. "I've never been able to open them. And I've had the Al'kesh for almost five years. But," he smiled, "there were other door's that he didn't lock, that I've made use of. Staff Weapons, Jaffa Armor, Naquadah and Trinium, probes and scanners-basic things I've put to great use on my Earth. " He spread his arms to indicate the cell, "I was known as the Emperor where I'm from-I ruled over thousands of people and I well loved by them."

"You conquered your world?" Carter said, startled.

"God no," Reed grumbled. "I just rule over Westchester County," '_and even then not that much,_' "but I have done miracles. Let me tell you something about my world-my world is a dead hulk, okay? Aliens invaded-not the Goa'uld by the way-who blasted away every nation to ashes. I was given the Al'kesh by fate to rebuild my world-but I couldn't exactly do that while aliens ruled my world. So I came here hoping to get what I needed to return to my world, my Dominion, and reclaim Earth for man."

"Ambitious," Daniel said. Reed wondered if he heard admiration in his voice.

"But how did you get here? In fact, how did an Al'kesh get into your universe?"

'_Korra! I forgot!_'

"I was the host to a Tok'ra. Korra, he called himself. He was on the run from Ba'al's forces in the Al'kesh. I think…" he frowned, bringing up the memory. "He encountered the _Prometheus_ when he came here. He had with him a Quantum Mirror… something I think you people already have." The looks on their faces said they did; "It activated accidently and brought him into my universe."

"So where is he?"

Reed flinched. He faintly remembered Korra's resistance against his ideal future - a world under his rule. "He's dead."

"How'd he die?"

"He was wounded, in the past. He died from those wounds, but he tried to stay alive in my to bring you a message."

"Message? What message?"

"He said that there were two Quantum Mirrors. Ba'al had one, which I had until I cam here, and Anubis has one."

The two paled dramatically.

"Did he say where?"

"Nope. Now… about me staying here-I told you what I know and where' I'm from, so can I go? I really have to get back."

"Where?"

I grumbled irritably. "Where else Colonel Carter, will I go? Back to my universe-I made a promise to go back. The people there look up to me. They depend on me to come and continue the good fight. I came where to give you the message Korra told me to give you, and to get what I needed to liberate my Earth. Now I can't do that without my Guards, my Al'kesh or the Quantum Mirror."

"We can't just let you go," Jackson replied.

"I'm not a threat to you! I just need a place to get what I need, weapons, armor and vehicles, and get back to my Earth. I won't ever both you again after that. God knows I haven't been treated well here."

Carter actually smiled at that.

"Let's say we do let you go. Where will you go?"

"Do you remember, Dr. Jackson, that world where you were corrupted by the Sarcophagus?" He asked.

Daniel shuddered. "Yeah, why…. Oh no. You want to go there?"

"The only place I can think of."

"Why?"

"It has Naquadah, it has a population of people and it has a Sarcophagus. I can't die until I unite my world. If I die, everything I've done, which is quite impressive I have to say, will be destroyed. Plus it's the only world I can think of that isn't occupied by any Goa'uld who would instantly kill me if they found out."

"Good point," he muttered.

"And you can check up on me periodically. Make sure I'm not doing anything wrong or that you don't like. I'll give you half of the Naquadah or any other materials that the people are probably making as …. Tribute…" '_Wow- I really have been reading those history books a lot. But it does fit with my Empire-type system on Earth,_' he mused. "But I will need my guards and all of the things you took from me. I have to be quick too-I promised my people I would return to them."

He smiled. "They sort of look up to me," he said to their questioning looks.

He leaned forward.

"So what do you say?"


	9. Chapter 9

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Stargate or any of other universes I'm going to crossover with…**

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**Reviews:**

**VexMaster: Heh. VK will make an 'official' appearance soon. But he's been doing a little nudging here and there…. **

**Aznblackhowling: I can't have things going easy for Reed. And it's not just Anubis out there…**

**Dr. Sweetz: HAIL THE EMPIRE! : )**

**Cklammer: I didn't entirely understand the review. But yes, the chapter (and this one as well) aren't particularly well done. I've been in a slump for a while, but hopefully I'm getting better. **

**Karthink9: Thank you.**

**Star40963: Hmm… a lot of review in just one day from you! Yes, Alexander is the Hierarch, or will be. Unlike my previous story where he became the Hierarch immediately, the 'Covenant' won't appear until much later on, an evolution from an Imperialistic government to a theocratic Empire. And you have some good ideas-particularly in combining my Old CE and the Neo CE. **

**.**

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**THIS IS NOT A PARTICUALLY WELL DONE CHAPTER. IF YOU HAVE ANYTHING YOU CAN SEE BE CHANGED, PM ME OR TELL ME IN YOUR REVIEW. THANK YOU. **

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**Don't forget to review! It makes me happier to get reviews!**

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**Inspired by StarGate: Galactic Imperium » by VexMaster.**

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**Please, please, please, please, PLEASE, review! Even if you hate this story and want it burned for heresy, tell me. Give me your opinions, suggestions, criticism, hate mail and fan mail! PLEASE!**

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**Also read this: Clash of Empires... co-written with VexMaster.**

**Also read this: Stargate: Galactic Imperium… written by VexMaster**

**Also read this: Golden Dawn... written by Amann**

**Also read this: War of Gods and Men... written by Amann**

**Also read this: The Raid of the Twelve Colonies... written by me**

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**Go to my Forum if you have any ideas or anything you want to say!**

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"When you strike at a king, you must kill him"

**Ralph Waldo Emerson.**

**.**

**.**

Terella had once suffered under the rule of the Goa'uld Underlord Seti. The legends passed from mouth by the Old Ones had said that Seti served a Greater God known as Ra. Seti created the Terellan's to work for him, to mine the 'Naquadah' (as the Tau'ri called it) for him and his God. For thousands of years the people served in barbaric conditions, slaving in the dark mines for their Master, fearful for their lives. The demon's servants, his Jaffa terrorize the small populace, committing mass executions if the Naquadah quota was not met. Many times they killed for the fun of it. The few times anyone ever tried to stand up to them was met with an onslaught of death.

However as the decades, as the centuries passed, the number of Jaffa that served their Master began to dwindle, dying of unknown causes. Many died terrible deaths, clutching at their chests in anguish. Eventually it became clear that Seti would be vulnerable soon, and defenseless as his Jaffa army died one by one. In one single revolution led by a former pit boss by the name of Pryus, the thousands of Terellan's revolted, overwhelming the Jaffa and pushed into the Great Pyramid.

There, legend and fact mingle.

One account dictates that Pryus, wielding a blood-tainted pick-ax fought Seti in combat in the Throne Room. Another declared that Pryus dealt Seti a great blow of fire from one of the Jaffa's Magi weapons, forcing Seti to flee into his Sarcophagus. There, Pryus followed him and killed him in the magi device. And yet another spoke of how Seti begged for his life, and betrayed Pryus morals by attempting to stab in the back, only for Pryus to kill him. Whatever the case, Seti's terrible reign over the people collapsed. It was with great irony that, in gratitude for their new found freedom, the people offered and chose without pause Pryus to rule them as their new King.

For more than several hundred years, Pryus ruled Terella with care, and saw the expansion of Terella into a powerful society of a million. But as the years passed, Pryus found himself drawn more and more to his Sarcophagus, depending on its magical technology to sustain him with new life. But in return, the device took away his humanity and he became a cruel despot, organizing an Overwatch to ensure that the people met their quotas and to ensure that no one dared go against him.

It became a ritual for several bowls of Naquadah to be deposited to a special world, a world beyond the Eye of Seti. The ritual was to keep Seti's vengeful spirit away and to keep the Ancient Demons from ever returning. The people found themselves fearful for their lives, and their advancements regressed until they were but a few thousand working in the deep pits for Naquadah.

However since the coming of the Tau'ri seventeen years ago, the rule had changed again. The ultimate final death of Pryus allowed his daughter, Shyla, to ascend to the throne. Influenced by the short time she spent with the Tau'ri Daniel Jackson, the people once more felt freedom as they were allowed to explore other occupations. The Overwatch found itself transformed from a 'Security Force' into her personal Bodyguards, armed with only crude spears and natural weapons of Terellan design than the Jaffa's terrible fire weapons, and despite the cruelty of her father, the people who had lived so long under two Masters, found themselves unable to comprehend life without a Master, without a King. So Shyla remained Queen, and a benevolent one.

**.**

**.**

"The death of our Overwatch Leader, Paka Lasta is a loss to us all," the Queen proclaimed as he stood over the casket containing the body of her old friend. She could barely believe it-scarcely believe that he was actually dead. Paka had taught her how to rule effectively with peace rather than the constant threat of punishment and death, without an iron fist and an iron blade.

"Was it not for his help, our peace would have never come. Without out his help, we would have never rooted out the tyrannical elements in the Overwatch as we did. It is travesty that such a man was taken from us in the prime of his life. We cannot forget him however, and all that he has done. In his memory we will continue to maintain the peace he helped create with me, with us."

She paused.

The large crowd whispered in prayer to the Ancestors high above wherever they were. Oh it was known thanks to the Tau'ri that the glimmering lights in the sky weren't the souls of their ancestors, but tradition and religion was hard to break. Everyone had been touched by the kind but firmness of Paka. "Now we must choose a new Overwatch Leader. The Settlement leaders of the Thirty Tribes and the High Guards of the Overwatch have chosen and will announce the successor to the late Paka."

She stepped to the side as the thirty six men and women took their step forward, lowering their head, averting their eyes from the casket. They all wore the same bland homespun robes… all save one. She narrowed her eyes at the one Man-Child in the group, the youngest Settlement Leader in all of Terella's history. He wore a black shirt and blue stockings (jeans, he called them.) For a moment she thought she saw him _smile _at the casket before he averted his eye. It was trick of the sun.

And yet, something troubled her.

Paka had been murdered-castrated, a terrible act that had brought back the memories of the terrible purges her father had committed in his fits. He had been found near one of the villages, surrounded by a pool of blood. '_In fact,_' she thought, '_isn't the settlement he was found nearby the Man-Child's?_'

Could he have…?

'_The Man-Child wouldn't have been able to overcome Paka. Besides, he is just a Man-Child after all._'

But then again…

The Man-Child with his strange garments had come through the Eye of Seti with ten guards behind him, a refugee he had said from a place where terrible Demons had destroyed his home and killed everyone. He had tried to fight back with other survivors, but they had all been massacred. He had taken refuge on another world, but the aliens had come there too and destroyed everything. He and a few body guards had managed to escape in time. At the time she hadn't questioned him on some of the holes in his tale-he was a refugee, how could she turn him away?

But now things had changed.

"As time is of the essence to choose a new Overwatch Leader," one of the six High Guards declared, raising his head, "we have already, all of us, come to a decision as to who would replace the Great Paka." He paused, presumably for the dramatic effect. "We have all agreed on who should lead."

"Who," The crowd chanted properly.

She smiled - tradition.

"Step forward," a female High Guard announced, "my new Overwatch Leader!"

No one stepped forward for a few seconds, and the Queen wondered if this was a joke to them. If it was, it wasn't funny. The death of their beloved Overwatch leader was a terrible blow to them all. Taking this like a joke was an insult, an act of betrayal to the ideals and foundations of her prosperity.

To her horror, someone did step up then:

The Man-Child

He raised his hands and smiled devilishly.

"My name is Alexander Reed, and I'm here to lead!"

**.**

**.**

He had been on Terella for two months, three months if you went by the 22-hour day cycle here. Since then he had done as much as could trying to usurp the 'benevolent' rule of their Queen. He had to admit though, that objective wasn't easy. She did rule benevolently, and the people loved her. But every society (even his) had those who wanted change, and like that guy who ran for President on his Earth, he would bring change. '_Oh yes I can,_' he thought very happy.

He had already done things to make sure his path would be as easy as he could. When he came through the Stargate, he had spent three weeks at the SGC, learning as much as he could about the politics of the galaxy. Funny thing was, he never enjoyed politics or the news. But it was actually interesting, and realer than anything people could write up. Anubis and Ba'al weren't the dominant power anymore. The System Lords had revolted _just _as the Neo-Replicators cropped up. He had his suspicions as to who created the new Replicators, but he wasn't entirely confident. If he said anything, he wasn't sure what might happen. This SGC, after all, wasn't the same.

In fact, the Point of Divergence wasn't where Anubis lost his flagship for the SGC. The POD was when Apophis attacked, at the end of the 20th century. The SGC had managed to get away with a load of Goa'uld technology, jump-starting its technological base. They even had their soldiers in proper armor. Not the bullet-piercing armor of the Jaffa, but real and true battle-tested armor.

He grinned as he leaned back on the chair. It was rough and completely lacking in the comfort of his chairs back on his Earth, but it was good for the moment. It was cutting edge in the comfort for these people. He sighed, thanking the SGC for giving him a suitcase of clothing-nice regular clothing. Ba'al's elaborate robes were OK, but he didn't want to get swamped by jealous people.

He still couldn't believe how blind Jackson and Carter had been. He didn't exactly hide his ambition from them, but he guessed they didn't care. In fact, considering that he was still a teenager (or a Man-Child as the Terellan's called him,) they probably didn't think he could do that much. They had let him go under the condition however that they would check up on him every five weeks, almost a month. True to their word, the SGC had indeed come up to check up on him.

Three times, in fact.

'_Hmmm…. I guess it does make that three months since I came here… or did they come ahead of schedule._'

He shrugged – it didn't matter.

Still, it would be a long hard road.

Back on his Earth, his Earth, no one dared oppose him. It wasn't just that he had the backing of his military force and that the people who challenged him often vanished, it was also that people looked up to him. Their world had collapsed all around them, and they didn't have anyone else to look up to. Mankind was a scared species-it needed someone to look up to. They had religions and governments to give leadership. He had taken the mantle of power to lead his people, and they followed like sheep. In fact, one could consider people to be sheep. They needed to be led. A human without someone to lead him, be it a God or just another person, was a scared and lonely person.

Here though, he was opposed.

He had to obey the Queen, Shyla, (who he had to admit was hot,) and do as she said. This was even more important considering that he was now the leader of the Overwatch organization which reported _directly _to her. And considering that he was also the Settlement Leader of his Settlement that made even more under the yoke of the Queen. He sighed, but this was for the better of his Domain.

'_How far I've fallen. Reduced to obeying a Queen. I used to be an Emperor, the most powerful person on the planet. Oh yes, you have indeed fallen quite a bit,_' his other commented joyfully, '_still arguing with yourself-that is not good. Oh really, did you expect me to leave? Nah, you don't want me to leave. Then you'll be all alone!_' He flinched. '_I'm never alone. I am people looking up to me._'

He rolled his eyes.

Why'd he do that? '_Because you wanted to. I'm you and you are you-we are the same and well, you know why. Do I have to tell you?_' He grumbled. He hated to admit it, but his inside voice was right. He didn't know the proper word but it didn't matter. Hmm… he probably was insane.

He squashed the other and sighed, preparing himself for work. For all the primitiveness of this civilization, they had a shocking amount of paper work to do. The language (strangely) was very similar to English but with a smattering of other languages in it-some German, Spanish, French and etc. That part made it hell to write, needing to translate as best as he could those words. But it was worth it. Using a inked quill, he pulled out a fresh sheet of 'paper' and thought about how his military was structured, how the Goa'uld armies were structured, and how the Overwatch and militia's were structured.

'_Plenty of space for improvement._'


	10. Chapter 10

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Stargate or any of other universes I'm going to crossover with…**

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**Reviews:**

**Cklammer: Thanks! Hope this one does as well. **

**John777: Thank you. **

**Aznblackhowling: Heh-heh. Wait… get out of my mind! **

**Dr. Sweetz: You ask and you get! **

**Stark40763: I wouldn't say that. He likes games, and whose better than those he can easily manipulate without even thinking about it. He doesn't care about us lower beings since we're just toys to him. **

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**Don't forget to review! It makes me happier to get reviews!**

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**Inspired by StarGate: Galactic Imperium » by VexMaster.**

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**Please, please, please, please, PLEASE, review! Even if you hate this story and want it burned for heresy, tell me. Give me your opinions, suggestions, criticism, hate mail and fan mail! PLEASE!**

**.**

**.**

**Also read this: Clash of Empires... co-written with VexMaster.**

**Also read this: Stargate: Galactic Imperium… written by VexMaster**

**Also read this: Golden Dawn... written by Amann**

**Also read this: War of Gods and Men... written by Amann**

**Also read this: The Raid of the Twelve Colonies... written by me**

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**Go to my Forum if you have any ideas or anything you want to say!**

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He alone, who owns the youth, gains the future.

**Adolf Hitler **

**.**

**.**

_The creation of a true military force was a difficult but not impossible task. Utilizing his vast arsenal of knowledge and of course luck, Reed had transformed the Overwatch into a true military organization. Augmenting their leather armor with Bronze and Naquadah, he made it known that so long as he was the leader of the Overwatch; the lives of the people who obeyed him were his number one concern. This was, of course, contested by the Queen who denounced the act, declaring it to be reminiscent of the era of her father when the Overwatch was a terror organization. _

_The Queen's decision was withdrawn after heavy convincing by the High Guards of the Overwatch and by the Leader himself. However many more reforms would follow that would change the Overwatch. The invention of the Crossbow and bronze-tipped darts were followed by the advent of the 'Chainmail,' which resulted from better metallurgy techniques provided by Reed as well. Under the grace of the Queen (rumored,) he renamed the Overwatch, calling it the Storm Army. In a controversial move, he also armed his new SA with modified Magi Weapons, or 'Staff Rifle.' This move was again denounced by the Queen, and was this time supported by the majority of the population. However this support would completely wither away with the Secession. _

_Despite the peace and prosperity that existed, three villages on the outskirt of 'official' Terellan territory attempted to leave. Reasons for this sudden act were, and continue to be, a mystery. Even Alexander Reed himself went to try and bring them back but failed. Despite her beliefs, the Queen declared them to be traitors to Queen and People, and sent three Divara against the secessionists. The SA attempted to send their own but the Queen held them back, declaring that they would not intervene in her matters. However the three Divara's never returned. But what did were the rumors and then confirmation of two more villages joining the secessionists and another razed. At last, four months after Reed first came to Terella, the SA was sent into combat. _

_The war lasted two and a half weeks, and the reforms Reed had implanted and ensured a minimal loss of life. The settlements were recaptured and their populations decimated. The Queen again attempted, not long after the victory, to stop away the reforms but without the support she once had, again abandoned her decision. Yet there was more that Alexander Reed could accomplish. _

'_What Terella needs is Change,' Reed proclaimed when he and the leaders of a dozen Settlements went to the Queen in an attempt to use the Eye of Seti. Due to the great support Reed now possessed, the Queen allowed Reed to activate the Old Device. Primary activation led the world Tyan where he created trade rights with the farming organization called 'Netan's Order.' The deal was shockingly in favor of Terella. For less than a handful of Naquadah, Netan sent ten wagons of his finest crop called Kassa…. _

**.**

_Change: The Reformation of Terella_

_By Allan E Sorain, Royal Scribe_

_Imperial Writing_

**.**

**.**

Alexander brooded in his chamber.

It was his personal room where he did all of the damn work his ever increasing position demanded of him. Thank God that the paper work wasn't much or used too many complicated words, but it still drained him of energy. He gave weekly speeches every Monday and Shav'ra (it was an eight day week on Terella,) not including his appearances at Tyan _and _at several other villages. Hew as in constant motion and times like this where he could just relax were rare and extremely pleasant.

But right now it wasn't.

Was he a bad man?

For the first time, he was waving doubts.

Who was he, after all, to change how Terella had been run. Who was he to declare rule over Earth and have his own people killed for opposing him. And when did he get the right to call people his? Since he came here he had dozens of people killed and manipulated events to suit his need. He had undermined the authority of the Queen and had begun to change their culture and abuse it. He had introduced so many advances and opened their eyes to the galaxy at large, something the SGC hadn't done. He felt squeamish at that last thought-his last speech had dramatically altered Terella.

He shook his head.

A galaxy ruled by the so-called Ancient Gods, a thousand millions words just like Terella that were under the yoke of the False Gods, and the war that raged beyond their stars for their freedom. Like Klingon's, the Terellan's had a strong sense of honor and patriotism and felt respect for Earth. Hearing that the Earth was fighting on their behalf and dying had stirred these feelings. He didn't understand-he had thought Her Majesty (Oh god he was calling her that now…) would have told them.

He snorted: "To keep the peace."

Ignorance-ignorance was the enemy of man. Man depended on knowing and knowledge was power. But he couldn't disagree with her decision. Terella was in no shape, past or present, to take on any Jaffa. And considering that the Jaffa had an upgrade in this dimension (he had overheard one of the SG-soldiers taking about the new 'iron sights' and stronger staff blasts,) he had to agree.

But still though, the people had the right know.

And he used the reaction to his advantage.

Queen Shyla's popularity had crashed, and he had made his move. He wasn't a natural leader and by no means a good leader, but he was doing a slightly better job than Shyla… at least for the moment. He had the unofficial support of a half dozen settlements and the support of the Overwatch. He had to accelerate his designs here if he was going to go back to his Earth what the supplies he needed to unite his Earth. He hadn't forgotten his objective: Go back to Earth and create the basis for his Interstellar Empire. Terella was only the first stepping stone to that objective.

He sighed.

But was it right?

He laughed then – of _course_ it was right!

He was going to be an Emperor-the leader of an Empire that, if he did the right things, would span not just his universe but the multiverse. He stood up and stretched, preparing himself for the day. He blew the candles out and walked out. He covered his face from the sunlight and growled.

"Hail Leader!"

No sooner did he leave his home was he respected. He returned the salute, stifling a grin at the small child. Like everyone else in his Settlement, the child wore an extremely simplified uniform he made the SA wear. A drab brown tunic with a leather belt, and a wooden dagger strapped to it. He couldn't believe everything he had done ever since he came here. No, he really couldn't believe it. It was as if someone as looking after him, making things easier for him.

Things were really different here.

For example:

The Lucian Alliance didn't exist. Without a power vacuum that the fall of the Goa'uld would have created, there was no union of smugglers, criminals and survivalists to take their place. Quite ironically however, a faction of the Lucian Alliance did exist. Netan, the leader of the Alliance from the series, was still alive and still kicking. Here, he ruled a monopoly over Kassa, selling the Evil Corn.

Kassa was only just picking up around the galaxy, although its effect on Jaffa were limited which disappointed him. If he ever managed to take control over the Kassa's production, and if the Jaffa could be addicted to it, he'd have an army ready for him. Although having an army that was only loyal to their addiction wasn't particularly good. So that idea was dead-but it was never going to happen anyway.

"My Lord!"

He returned the salute.

'_What do the people call them?_' He thought, '_His Children… no, not that… His something… Oh now I remember - Alexander's Youth.' _They were his secret army, the youth-counterpart to his SA. He had remembered something before the Aliens invaded-something about the person controlling the minds of the children, would go and conquer the world. And he agreed with it fully. After all, the next generation would be firmly entrenched under his wing, the future of his Empire.

He saw a couple sitting in the shade eating some Kassa and stifled a laugh. Sheep-he was leading sheep! He wondered how he, someone who didn't even finish High School, have done all this.

"My Leader!"

Someone jogged over to him, a member of the SA. He wore a dark brown tunic with a metal dragger strapped to his belt, but with crude armor covering his shoulders, legs, his chest and his wrists. Jaffa armor, after all, was hard to come by on Terella. Only his Guards (the new and the old) and those of the Queen had Jaffa armor. But his armor was thicker, having augmented them with more armor. "Yes," he said, stopping. He was annoyed-he didn't get these sort of walks anymore. "What is it?"

"A message from Her Majesty," he said breathlessly.

He raised an eyebrow.

He took the letter and read it.

He wondered what her Highness wanted. Rarely did the Queen talk to anyone below her, which proved what a arrogant person she was. Arrogant as she was, he thought though as he read, she was hot…. His thoughts trailed off as he read the letter one more time, and then again, and again.

No… no, no, no!

'_Fuck._'

The letter gently fell, and he staggered backwards in shock. The soldier stared at him as he grabbed a building and cursed. "That Bitch," he snarled, his voice crackling. "How… How dare she do this to me?"

"My Lord?"

"Shut up," he spat, "go and do something important."

He walked past the visibly shocked soldier. "Sir, where are you going?"

"To speak with the Queen!"

**.**

**.**

_Pyramid of the Family_

_Capital of Terella_

_Seat of Government_

**.**

**.**

Queen Shyla, Empress of all that was and could be, ruler of Terella and the Lonesome Isles, sat imperiously on her throne of Naquadah. Like her father before her, she saw all and led all in the same room that, legend had it, Seti once command from. Her father had, in his madness, had clamped down on Terellan culture. From the old tales, Terella at its height had been a small but great civilization.

Ten of her guards stood at her flanks, holding the elaborate spears she had provided for them rather than the 'Staff Rifles' Alexander had insisted the SA use. "It's for your own protection," he'd insisted. "You'll be better protected if your guards have those sort of weapons-God help us if something happens to you." She hadn't believed him-she could see through his terrible lies now. It was as if a veil had been lifted from her eyes that had obscured the evident truth from her.

Everything Alexander had been doing…

She saw the corruption in the SA.

She saw the addictive properties of Kassa.

She saw the power he held.

He was a dictator.

A monster like her father.

He would destroy the peace she coveted.

And she had taken steps to ensure peace.

"Your Majesty!"

She smiled coldly-as expected, he came. "You dare come without invitation into my Throne Room?" She declared, narrowing her eyes as the strangely dressed man entered, anger evident on his face. Her guard's didn't react-they just stared at him and relaxed their shoulders. As she thought-Reed possessed loyalty even amongst her guards. Was the Queen no longer safe anywhere?

Before he came, she was.

"Wha-what is the meaning of the letter!"

"You know what it means," she said calmly.

The Man-Child bumbled over words. "You-You can't do this!"

"I just did."

"I am-"

She had enough of his charade. She was Queen; she was the ruler of Terella. She would not let a foreign Man-Child destroy her peace. She would not let him take away everything she had done. She stood up rather suddenly, and she saw him flinch, which was surprising but not unwelcome. _Let him fear me for once,_' she thought. '_He deserves to know what fear really is. He has done enough damage._' "I am Queen Shyla," she thundered, "And of this moment, Alexander Reed, I revoke you of all your ranks and titles!"

She had done it.

'_How you have fallen from heaven,_' she thought suddenly, '_O morning star, son of the dawn! You have been cast down to the earth, you who once laid low the nations!_'


	11. Chapter 11

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Stargate or any of other universes I'm going to crossover with…**

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**Reviews:**

**Dr. Sweetz: Thanks you and yes, there is one. **

**Vanbor the Fire Mage: You will be terribly disappointed here…**

**Stark40763: It not be fun. But it wouldn't be realistic for him to gain power so easily. I'm trying to keep some limited degree of realism in this story. I just hope I can continue it…**

**Cklammer: Initially I tried to emulate Mussolini but I turned to Hitler mainly because it sort of parallels how this story will go. And I wasn't trying to be subtle (that would have just been silly) and I was sort of losing concentration which led to his piece of… yeah… I relish your post. It makes me feel angry at my view of humanity. A dark view, and your post just made it lighter. **

**Velocityshade: It probably won't provoke a debate. But sadly my lacking of interest has harmed the parallels I so desperately tried to create. **

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**Don't forget to review! It makes me happier to get reviews!**

**.**

**.**

**Inspired by StarGate: Galactic Imperium » by VexMaster.**

**.**

**.**

**Please, please, please, please, PLEASE, review! Even if you hate this story and want it burned for heresy, tell me. Give me your opinions, suggestions, criticism, hate mail and fan mail! PLEASE!**

**.**

**.**

**Also read this: Clash of Empires... co-written with VexMaster.**

**Also read this: Stargate: Galactic Imperium… written by VexMaster**

**Also read this: Golden Dawn... written by Amann**

**Also read this: War of Gods and Men... written by Amann**

**Also read this: The Raid of the Twelve Colonies... written by me**

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**Go to my Forum if you have any ideas or anything you want to say!**

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**.**

In time of war the first casualty is truth

**Boake Carter**

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**.**

SG-12 stepped out of the Stargate, leveling their P90's as they examined their surroundings, studying everything that they could see. Colonel Kohlomer grunted as the Stargate de-activated behind him, the water-like surface vanishing in a ripple of energy. "Let's on waste time here," he drawled. "This is a quick check-up on that Reed's kid. Make sure he's not doing anything bad here and haul ass back to the SGC for our next mission. We're need elsewhere in the galaxy."

"Yes sir," they chorused as they slung their rifles and walked away from the Stargate.

They'd been on the planet before, the first SG-Team to check up on the Reed boy ever since the SGC dumped him on Terella. They knew their way around to the capital of Terella-it wasn't that far from the Stargate after all. But then again, the last few SG-Teams who checked up on the kid said that things were different. They all had orders not to interfere in Terella's business but…

He shook his head.

Something just felt wrong.

And his feeling was shared with the SGC after the last check in.

He replied it in his head:

**.**

**.**

"_There's a war going on in Terella," Colonel Mitchell said, sitting in the conference room, sighing. Kohlomer was there only because his team was the next to go on the arranged check-up. General Landry frowned, confused for only a moment. "Between who Colonel – have the Goa'uld return?"_

"_It's even worse than that – it's a civil war."_

"_What?"_

"_Seems we underestimated that Reed fellow," Mitchell growled. "The guy's smarter than we thought he was. Or at least he has a hell of a lot of luck on his side. Damn kid changed the balance of power on the planet. You should have seen it, heard it General Landry. The whole capital was a mess."_

"_How bad is it?"_

"_I talked with their Queen. The Civil War' been going on for, at minimum at least two weeks, give or take a few days but Reed's already done a lot of damage to her reputation, her pride and her nation. Maybe twenty villages have joined Reed and so have half of his 'SA,'" he spat the word out. There was no mistaking the un-subtle hints of Nazism in Reed's actions. In a way though it a parallel of how Hitler came to power in Germany, which was very unsettling to everyone considering the man's legacy. Especially to Kohlomer whose family had suffered under Hitler's reign._

_He was Jewish. _

_From what he heard, Reed had gained quite a bit of support. Everything started, the whole war started, with the death of one man. A man named 'Alan Dakish' had created a frenzy of hate against the Queen. Reed used that frenzy to split a dozen or so tribes into the 'United Kingdom's (funny,) and led a revolt against her. He had the majority of the SA on his side, although it wasn't as easy as a fight as he might have hoped. The Queen had many more people and still had her followers. Not to mention some 'unofficial' support he had given to her in the form of a few pistols. Not much, but he hoped it would do some harm to that kid. Reed was trouble. _

_Big trouble. _

_Landry scowled. _

"_There's no way he could have done all of this on his own," Landry muttered, thinking about the scenario. "He's barely a young man, and from what Jackson told me, he's from a parallel reality where his Earth was invaded and conquered by some aliens. I can't see him doing all of this on his own. He has to have help."_

"_Didn't he get a Tok'ra's knowledge? Maybe he's pulling some tabs from there?"_

"_You think the Tok'ra re HELPNG Reed?"_

"_No sir. But he has the memories of one of them. The Tok'ra had acted as Goa'uld before, in both stature and attitude. Maybe he's learning from his memories, and using them for himself. That isn't entirely impossible."_

"_Even with Tok'ra knowledge, he couldn't have done everything he's done so far. Colonel Kohlomer, on your schedule, I want you to go to find out everything about Reed and bring him here. We need to know who's helping him and why. This isn't good for the SGC or for Terella at all."_

_He saluted._

"_Yes sir."_

**.**

**.**

Soon enough they reached the outskirts of the forest and began walking down a gentle slope to the ground. They could already see the tip of the pyramid that signified that the planet was once ruled over by some Goa'uld a long time ago. "How much farther," someone grunted, just loud enough so he could hear. That would be the new addition to their team after Robert got himself killed by that Jaffa.

He scowled.

Ever since the Goa'uld started getting smart, a lot more people had started dying than ever before. The Loyalist Jaffa (or Tories as some were calling them,) were thinking as they did, adapting and modifying their fighting style. The days when you could just mow down an entire army of Jaffa with just a machine gun were gone. Now the Jaffa hid behind rocks and trees, and used their shock grenades before they even fired. Three _entire _SG-Teams had been killed in one attack.

A lot of the SG-Teams, once geared towards exploration, were now filled with people from the Marines and Army. The Air Force could handle its own, but the President had made the final decision. Twenty additional SG-Teams had been created to spearhead the counter-attacks against the Goa'uld. The Russians, British, and Chinese were also fielding their own in the form of UNIT Squads. UNIT, Unified Intelligence Taskforce, was a military-spy organization that acted as their parallel of the Stargate Program, minus the Stargate. They acted under the guise of the UN, meaning they could send more soldiers through the Stargate under the lie of 'peace keeping mission.'

Bah, they were just copy-cat. They still couldn't deal with the fact that United States was leading Earth into a future Golden Age. After all, America wasn't just leading the world, it was also leading the galaxy. Who WOULDN'T want that sort of influence or power? He had heard that during the Disclosure to the UN Security Council, they tried to set up another Stargate Program out of US Hands. But Thor, the Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleet, had stepped in and stopped them.

Big support there.

"Why… why…."

He raised a fist, and froze. Did he just hear someone _crying_?

'Did you hear that?' Edward mouthed to him.

He nodded back.

Simon took the lead, his finger hovering over the trigger. The sound of the sniffing grew louder-it wasn't that far away actually. A little boy was sniffing on a tree, his face and body covered by a long black cloak. Well, he wasn't sure of it was a little boy-the cloak obscured his size.

The kid gasped and skidded away a bit, hiding behind the tree.

"Hey, hey," Kohlomer said softly, feeling uncomfortable. He was a soldier goddamn it – not some sort of caretaker. He walked around the tree and kneeled next to the kid who was still covering his face. "We're good people. We just want to help you, that's all. Now, where are your parents?"

He twitched: "Dead."

Kohlomer winced, bad move. "Do you know who killed them?"

The boy nodded.

"Who?"

"Aliens."

"Aliens? What sort of aliens?"

He twitched again, "Bugger's."

He frowned. Maybe the Ree-tau things he read in one of the SG Files? "Who? Can you tell me what they looked like?"

The kid suddenly laughed.

Kohlomer chuckled too, confused. Why was this kid laughing? "Idiots. You're all fucking idiots, you know that?"

"What?"

"YOU ARE SURRONDED!"

Kohlomer turned, a cold chill running down his spine as a dozen men in leather-animal fur clothing and a handful in Jaffa armor leapt from the tree's, aiming their armed staff… rifles at them. One or two gasped as they grabbed their ankles, but leveled their weapons uncertainly at them. Then someone grabbed his shoulder, and the kid laughed. He didn't have to ask him who he was. He already knew.

"Reed."

"At yer service," he chuckled. "Disarm them and cuff them. And make sure they don't try anything funny."

"At once sir!"

"You're getting pretty ambitious, taking a SG-Team," he growled, furious that he'd been captured by a damn fucking teenager. This was an insult to his pride. Reed glanced at him and grinned.

"You haven't seen anything yet. I've only just started."

**.**

**.**

**Weeks Prior…**

**.**

**.**

… _Kassa had stopped following into Terella, following the order that the Eye of Seti be closed for all eternity. An unpopular move by the Queen, she announced that Kassa was the food of demons, of those who wished to do Terella harm. Despite this warning however, the Queen's influence had dramatically fallen with her decision to revoke all of Reed's positions of power, a move many clearly saw as an attempt to take out a threat. As a result of this the Queen ordered that everyone who attempted to use the Eye of Seti be detained, however even elements of the Overwatch attempted to use the Eye of Seti. _

_With this realization, the Queen purged the SA, cutting its membership by half, all of whom were her most devout and fanatical followers. She also banned the movement Alexander Reed had begun before his exile into the Outer Lands known as Unity. Several ranking members of this philosophy were detained and two were executed for having been 'found' with unauthorized weapons. _

_The unpopularity of the Queen's most recent actions was reaching its peak when the Queen declared that all prisoners and traitors to Terella were to work in the Naquadah Mines to 'pay of their debt to their brothers and sisters.' Many felt this undesirable, and it only strengthened the now-underground Unity organization. The SA found itself over tasked with too many issues and with too few people. Rumors began that the Queen was being influenced by a demon, which only further Reed's popularity as a Man for the People. The peak of this growing dissatisfaction erupted with a single death. _

_The death of Alan Dakish had started a cascade effect for all of Terella. Assassinated in broad day light by means of a Staff Rifle, Alan Dakish had been reported to be a close friend of Alexander Reed, acting as his mouth for the farther villages. It had been who, under the grace of Alexander before his dismissal, had accumulated the needed support to use the Eye of Seti to bring in Kassa. _

_The killer had cried out 'Long Live Our Queen,' before he fired, and before his execution by SA guards who had reacted too late to prevent the untimely death. This event led to the War of Kingdom which would result in His Dominance. The Queen had denounced the act, claiming no knowledge despite her well known dislike for Alexander. It is no coincidence that Reed had gone into hiding several days prior to the assassination, which means that he had been the intended target. _

_In lack of Reed, the Queen chose his voice in hopes of bringing him out of hiding._

_And she did. _

"_I have lost a dear friend, a man who stood by me the whole time I came here. He spoke when I could not and rallied our hearts and souls into the common goal: Bringing honor and peace and PROSPERITY to Terella. Now he's dead, and can we blame for that? Whose fault is it for this unprovoked and bastardly deed? Who but the Queen, she who feared what I was doing and sought to bring me down – she who feared the modernization and advancements and Change that I made. This is what Terella needs: Change! She wants stagnation, and she sought to end Change by assassination! This is the hallmark of a Tyrant! Our Queen is not just-she is the Tyrant her father was! Oh yes, she is the Tyrant that her father worse and is far worse because she knows what she's doing. She craves her power, and she fears what we, together, can do. It is our duty to correct the mistakes she's made. I won't tolerate it. Will you tolerate it? In one voice, let's show her our resolve: _

"_NO!" _

**.**

**.**

Reed slipped his hands into the metal gauntlet, flexing his hand as his guards placed the crude metal plates over his body. The chainmail felt cold against his skin, making him shiver. The process took a few minutes, each piece having to be licked together to avoid falling apart in the middle of combat. That would be disastrous and probably (likely) mean he'll die before he could do anything.

"Tell me something good," he said as a messenger jogged in his secret room, an underground cave not far from the 'capital' of the United Kingdom's. The capital was also called Rome, being that from Rome emerged the greatest Empire of the world. Well, as soon as he came back to Earth, it would be the second greatest Empire in the world. "After the last two disasters, I need good news."

Betrayal was something he had not expected.

A hundred soldiers had gone against him, burning one of his settlements and captured two hundred soldiers who were sleeping. How and why that happened, he had no idea and it scared him. Who else was traitor in his ranks? Who else would betray him in his revolt? Who would dare stop Change and progress in the name of stagnation and ignorance? He didn't know who, and he was now in constant fear that someone would sneak up while he slept and kill him, ending his plans.

"Good news indeed Emperor," the messenger said, gasping for breath as he kneeled. "Sub-Leader Ussama has taken another settlement and the Queen's forces have abandoned two more settlements to us. The other Sub-Leaders are racing to take them before each other. Victory is assured!"

He frowned, searching his memories.

Why did that seem so wrong?

"Do we have… oh what's the word? The proper logistics?"

"I… don't understand…"

"It's the management of goods and information," Reed explained, "the soldiers at the front of the war, are they getting the food and comforts I've promised? Are they being switched out every seven days? Are there proper roads and clearings for them to use and to relax on? Is the chain of supply continuous and not obstructed? Is it also safe? Lord knows he don't want to lose another force."

The messenger looked lost. "I… think so."

He glared at the older man. "Find out then!"

"Right away sir!"

The man scurried away, and he sighed. Good help was so hard to find. Now… he thought about the last time a SG-Team had come in . '_Just a few more weeks before the next check-up, the Stargate is in the neutral zone,_' he thought. The neutral zone was also dead-mans zone, the gap between Shyla's followers and his Kingdom's. He had to push the Queen back as far as possible before he could get to the Stargate. And he had to do it before the SGC was supposed to dial back.

Why?

He glanced at his guards fitting him in armor. He was no military man. The only reason he was doing so well was because Korra had some inking of modern warfare, the Shyla just wasn't cut out to lead her followers in a war. If he didn't have Korra's memories, he'd probably have a lot more people dead on his side. He shivered. Jesus, that was terrifying… well not so much as slightly disturbing. Barely that actually. He had enough Nish'ta left for eight or so people. '_If I can capture a SG-Team and make them obey me… _'

The possibilities were endless.

That only made him smile.

**.**

**.**

YES THIS CHAPTER SUCKS.

But I've begun to lose interest in the Neo-Covenant Empire. I've been focusing on too many things and I've been in a slump. You probably don't care but I'm going to tell you anyway. Everything I'll write, someone will have thought up of before me. Life is drab and boring. Life is…. Just a lie. So, that's over with. Next Chapter is going to wrap this part up and hopefully get my interest back up.

Also, I need some planet's that aren't occupied by the Goa'uld or that can offer Reed some knowledge and technology. If anyone has a planet in mind, tell me please. And may be God be with you - : )


	12. Chapter 12

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Stargate or any of other universes I'm going to crossover with…**

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**.**

**Reviews:**

**Karthik9: Oh look an update!**

**John777: Thank you.**

**Cklammer: Yeah, it wasn't too good. The previous chapter was a mash of two different beginnings I tried to work with. **

**Aern: I was considering Altair but then having Reed get a machine copy of him isn't such a good idea…**

**Ffn notices: Heh, thank you. I'm hoping to get pointers on how to do better and what to change for the future so if you have anything say so. **

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**Don't forget to review! It makes me happier to get reviews!**

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**Inspired by StarGate: Galactic Imperium » by VexMaster.**

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**Also on Alternate History (dot) com, check out my story A WORLD OF DARKNESS: THE RACE UNDONE. Enjoy! **

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**Also read this: Clash of Empires... co-written with VexMaster.**

**Also read this: Stargate: Galactic Imperium… written by VexMaster**

**Also read this: Golden Dawn... written by Amann**

**Also read this: War of Gods and Men... written by Amann**

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**Go to my Forum if you have any ideas or anything you want to say!**

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**.**

"_War is a game that is played with a smile. If you can't smile, grin. If you can't grin, keep out of the way till you can." _

**Winston Churchill**

**.**

**.**

He was not a military leader.

Having admitted it, Reed actually felt better. He had no idea on how to lead soldiers or how to motivate them. He didn't do anything that would earn him the title of a 'military genius' or a 'gifted war-leader,' as the Terellan's called it. In the only battle he ever took part of, he had failed to exploit two chances to destroy the so-called army the Queen controlled. He had failed to take advantage of the chaos when his forces attempted the first siege of the capital, which resulted in a complete disaster.

It had really hurt his popularity, hurt the image he had created. How many died in the battle, he wondered? Was it fifty, eight, or was it more than that – a hundred? After that little horrific stunt, he had withdrawn from actually leading the army (he'd never do that again as far as he was concerned,) and allowed SG-12 to lead them. He grinned as he thought about them obeying _his _orders now.

And now, as he sat in a cave where the only light was from a small candle, he wondered if he was even fit to lead. He laughed that that laughed and cried. He had busied himself so much, put so much effort in trying to build a better world. A world under his rule yes, but he had so much ideas! There would be equality, peace, a world that would never need war or dangerous thoughts because he'd make the choice for them, because that would be the perfect world that he would rule. That was what he wanted, and that was what he strived to create. And oh how he had fallen.

Where was the perfect world he had imagined, back on Earth? His Dominion was a crude frail shadow of the United States, and even then he didn't have the sort of control he had imagined he would have. Fate and luck, those two miracles of the universe had kept him going and supported him since he started on the path to dominance. Without luck, he would never have been able to do half of things he had accomplished. He hadn't finished High School, he wasn't the image of the stereotypical king, and he wasn't much of a motivator. He would probably have been just another face in a sea of life if the aliens hadn't invaded, if Korra hadn't crashed on Earth and blended with him.

Tears trickled down from his eyes.

Finally after so long he realized something, something he had overlooked in fear and refusing to accept the truth.

His family was dead.

Mami, Papi, Raquel, Arturo, Ricardo and Nancy, his family was dead. He hiccupped, and realized that the pets Rocky and Sophie were also dead. Lilac and Skittles too! The dogs and rabbits! He clutched at his heart and cried his heart out, allowing himself for the first time in so many years to actually try and think about his family, to think about everyone that died in the invasion.

Everyone was gone.

He was alone.

Well wasn't this what every teenagers dreamed about? To just grow up and leave the confines of a prison/house and to become an independent person – wasn't that the dream that everyone had? But he didn't want to have it because his family was dead, because he didn't have a home anymore, because billions were dead…

His eyes widened as he vomited in a corner.

Oh god… what had he done?

Flashes, memories, appeared before him. He could see himself, see himself issue the orders of death, watch his bored and careless face as he ordered the deaths of the people he swore he'd protect and bring honor and pride to. He felt his body quiver and shake as he remembered the way he felt when he killed that gangster oh those times ago, the empty and uncaring way he had done it.

No… what had he become?

'_A monster_,' he thought.

He had become a Monster.

He could see it now; see the devil's work he had done. He remembered the reports (endless reports every single fucking day!) on the situation of his Dominion. Crime rate had gone up, as people struggled to gain fate in the 'currency' had had ordered to be put into production, money that was only backed up by his good will and the 'Gold' (Naquadah) he had at his disposal. He remembered reading about how several members of the Police had been lynched by angry mobs… had he even settled that? Oh yes, he had sent the Guards to 'liquefy' the anarchist elements.

He vomited.

Oh God… where were the ideals he so cherished?

Then he laughed.

And Laughed…

And Laughed…

Why was he crying? Why was he moaning and groaning over what _had _to be done, his Other argued. The voice was right, Reed knew that. Nothing good came from being idealistic and hopeful. You had to make hard choices, had to choose the evil side sometimes in order to accomplish Good. When he was finished here, when he finished off the last remnants of the Queen and moved onward, he'd been able to bring peace. Oh yes! He could see it now-the glorious future!

Hmm?

He could have sworn he had laughter….

He wiped his mouth and left the cave, washing his hands in a bucket of water. Two of his guards, his original guards, followed him and stood at his flanks with their Staff Rifles ready in case of assassination. '_I'm doing it all for the good,_' he reassured himself, '_Mami and Papi would be proud of me. I'm going to make a name for myself and make sure that they're never forgotten. That no one is forgotten._'

"My Lord, you must get back into the cavern," one of his guards, Michael, whispered, eyes darting into the surrounding tree's. "You aren't safe here so exposed! You don't even have your armor!"

"I am perfectly saw thank you very much," he scowled.

"I insist!"

He sighed and, not wanting to argue, retreated into the cavern. When he had used the Nish'ta on those two idiots, he hadn't expected them to be so… over protective like a mother… he felt pain in his heart then. His mother….

He shook his head and tried to get his mind away from the thought.

Still, his guards had a point. Despite the plans he had made when he had set free from that godforsaken SGC, it hadn't gone the way he had imagined. He scowled, thinking about how he had screwed up. Arriving just a little later than scheduled, his Al'kesh (with all of his remaining guards,) had descended above the capital. One of guards, scripted, had declared himself 'God' and demanded that everyone bow before him. Of course neither he nor the Queen accepted and the Civil War had turned into a three-way war. Right on plan except that when he went to challenge 'God,' his guards were to bow before him and acknowledge him as their leader. With the reinforcements, he was then going to storm the Queen's bastion and finally take control of Terella.

But he hadn't anticipated that 'God' would refuse to join him, and declare that the world and every other world belonged to him. His former guard had actually convinced and deluded himself that he was in fact a God. And he had convinced the others that he was, and betrayed him!

Bastard.

So now he was torn between fighting the Queen and 'God.' His forces were reeling from the attacks the Al'kesh was pouring down on them, and the capital city was a constant battle ground in ruins. He wanted to hit something, but hitting rock would hurt him more than it would hurt the rock.

He laughed bitterly.

There was a bright side to this though. From what he'd been told and seen, 'God' was only in power because he terrified his soldiers. If he was taken out, there was a high chance that they would join him. Unfortunately, God was always in his Al'kesh, and the only times he landed was to transport soldiers to another place or to toy with his forces. He hated that guard – oh yes did he hate him! He despised him, and despised everything he stood for. Religion had no place in his world. Oh sure he wouldn't get rid of religion, but there was no place for a religion in government.

An Empire based on religion.

Yeah Right – You had to look at the Covenant from Halo to see what happened to religious Empires.

He froze and rubbed his eyes. He could have sworn…. He could have sworn he saw a kid with green hair at the corner of the cave. He groaned and blinked a few times. The flames were playing games with the shadows it casted. It probably didn't help he was stressed with the situation.

He sighed.

Suddenly he had an idea. A sudden idea, out of the blue.

'_Is it possible? Can I… but the risk…_'

'_JUST DO IT!_'

He made up his mind.

**.**

**.**

Sitting on a throne of rock and metal crafted from the ruins of a home, God sat like the God he was on a hill overlooking the capital as it burned. His forces were pushing inward against the Pyramid, the remnant of the 'Queen's' army holed up inside. He laughed and drank another bottle of the frothing drink his Jaffa had brought to him. The Jaffa in question had his back turned to him, shivering. God laughed and the fear the Jaffa had in his presence. He was GOD, and the Jaffa was a lesser being. He had to be scared, nervous in fact, to be in the presence of his God!

When the inferior Queen was killed by his hands, by the righteous hand of God, the only threat to him was Reed, the false Emperor who DARED try and challenge his authority! He couldn't believe the audacity of such an inferior human! To challenge his God, the God of all of creation and time! What arrogance! He screamed and threw his bottle. His head was hurting, and he heard whispers, his own voice. He, he was telling himself that he served Reed! That Reed was his Master!

Lies!

HE was Reed's Master.

The other way around!

So then why did he tell himself that was wrong?

"My God!"

He tore himself from these thoughts and glared at a Jaffa who was rushing towards him, panting in his heavy armor. The Jaffa was weak, tired. To serve his God, Jaffa needed to be strong and powerful. When this conquest done and the faithful united under the firm arms of their God, he would eliminate the week. But for the moment he would use the Jaffa until he was useless. "Why do you scream at your God?" He snarled. "Show your God your respect and bow."

The Jaffa bowed.

It would do – for now. "What is it?"

"My God," he whispered, "we have captured the heathen! We have captured Alexander Reed!"

God froze.

Then he laughed.

THIS WAS GLORIOUS!

"Take me to him at once," he ordered, rising to his feet. He thought about boarding his Al'kesh but decided against it. Why would he need his Al'kesh when Reed was his prisoner now? Again the voice whispered to let Reed go, but he squashed it. When he killed Reed, the only real challenge to his dominance would be gone. He had sealed the Stargate when those soldiers from the 'SGC' had arrived, so they were of no concern to him. He had thrown their dead and mangled bodies back through the gate as an example. When Reed was dead, he'd expanded outward.

The entire _galaxy _would know the name God!

Sadly how wrong he was.

He failed to notice the messenger smile devilishly as he fingered the blade strapped to his waist. He knew who his true Master was, who the true ruler of all was. Hatch, or God as he called himself, wasn't his Master. No, Alexander was, and he would help his beloved Emperor overthrow the pretender! Yes, yes he would! When his Master gave him the signal, he would kill the pretender.

Then all would be right.

**.**

**.**

What was his name again? Reed watched as 'God' marched up towards him, his flanks covered by the messenger, Ron, and two other 'Jaffa.' Match or Dak? Chazz? Something with an 'ach' at the end, he was certain of that. Reed was flanked by two of 'Gods' Jaffa, although they weren't his Jaffa anymore. They knew their place, and they knew who their Emperor was. He had doubts on what he was doing not long before, but thoughts and doubts were gone now.

There was only pride.

He was right. He was always right.

"Alexander Reed… how low you have fallen," 'God' laughed.

'_Bastard_.'

"Have you submitted to my rule? Have you accepted that I am truly your God, your creator and savior? Have you accepted that you will obey my word and laws and surrender your Kingdom to me?" 'God' whispered, spreading his arms as if he was awaiting a beam of light to shower on him.

"No."

"Then why have you surrendered?"

"I'm not here to surrender," Reed said coldly, raising his mental wall for what he was going to do. "I'm here to see your death."

'God' laughed, and then gasped.

With a single slice, the messenger he had sent to 'God' plunged the blade into the black of his neck, blood squirming through as the other Guard plunged his blade into 'God's' eye, and twisted it very slowly, back and forth. God gurgled and gasped, falling to his eyes, his one eye wide as he tried to scream.

Reed stared at him in disgust.

Then he died.

"What are you orders? My Emperor?"

"How many guards are with me?" He demanded, taking charge at once. He ignored the body and the blooding staining the grass at his feet. "Where is my Al'kesh and what is the current situation?"

"We have all the guards save twenty which were killed. Your craft is beyond this hill, defended by ten Guardians," the messenger replied, bowing. Reed smiled at the respect and felt something burst in his chest. "The rest of our force has gained the support of two villages belonging to the Queen as well as three of yours, and the combined force has laid siege the Pyramid of the Queen. The halls are treacherous and narrow, and they have turned the pyramid into a fortress of death."

Reed frowned.

"Well then. Let's get to work."

**.**

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**A little inspiration from watching Code Geass! I don't know how or why, but I finally wrote! Thank you God! I was hoping to try a new writing style here… I'll try it next chapter. On that note, I'm going to begin speeding up. I'll try to compress time so I can get to the juicier parts. **


	13. Chapter 13

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Stargate or any of other universes I'm going to crossover with…**

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**Reviews:**

**Aznblackhowling: The 'God' character was a renegade Guard. Well that was part of the original plan (somewhat…) but it didn't go along with the plan. But I'm adapting. **

**VexMaster: Thank you. Is this LONG enough? **

**Cklammer: I lost the dots. Somewhat. Maybe you implied that before… but I never heard it. I'm advancing! Thank you God! **

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**Don't forget to review! It makes me happier to get reviews!**

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**Inspired by StarGate: Galactic Imperium » by VexMaster.**

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**Also on Alternate History (dot) com, check out my story A WORLD OF DARKNESS: THE RACE UNDONE. Enjoy!**

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**Please, please, please, please, PLEASE, review! Even if you hate this story and want it burned for heresy, tell me. Give me your opinions, suggestions, criticism, hate mail and fan mail! PLEASE!**

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**Also read this: Clash of Empires... co-written with VexMaster.**

**Also read this: Stargate: Galactic Imperium… written by VexMaster**

**Also read this: Golden Dawn... written by Amann**

**Also read this: War of Gods and Men... written by Amann**

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_Conquerors never, never conquer a nation to bring freedom. They brought control._

**Ernst Zundel.**

**.**

He had been on the planet for close to a year and a half, after the end of the Civil War that had ravaged his current Empire. With the combined might of the UK (there was a pun!) and his Guards including the Al'kesh, it was child's-play to destroy what was left of Queen Shyla's steadfast loyalists. He hadn't destroyed the Pyramid, but he had beamed out her out of her little panic room and unto his Al'kesh. After that, her followers all surrendered, and he had them sent to prison camps.

Shyla too.

Of course then, that left him in control of less than fifty settlements, all of which were devastated by the war and his renegade/disillusioned guard. They were at peace for the moment, but how that would last he didn't know. He expanded the SA and formed a new organization, the Kingdom's Council of Internal Associations, or the KCIA. The KCIA was his 'secret police,' a necessary step backwards in order to maintain and order and keep away chaos. The KCIA was his will; it represented his strength and extended his Imperial rule to the faraway settlements.

A few loyalist remnants tried to fight back not long after the formation of the KCIA by trying to break into the prison camp where the deposed Queen was. Loyalists armed with spears and swords against men with Staff Rifles and Zat's?

The outcome of that was never in doubt.

Of course, then things started to fall apart. He wasn't much of a business man, he didn't know much about how to run a nation, no matter how primitive. In fact, he didn't know squat on how to run anything. Oh yes, he had produced a few goods to make things easier, but that was just modern Earth and Tok'ra knowledge. Korra's memories could help him at all in this type of scenario.

Three villages attempted to fight back, tried to secede from the United Kingdom's and do what he did. That he could not allow. No, he would not allow the world where he could expand from becomes fractured. He sent the might of the SA to stamp down on the secessionist movement, and sent members of the KCIA against them. The members were the former soldiers of SG-12 and the new additions, SG-16. They had emerged through the Stargate just before the secessionist movement and had been captured, although several of his Guards had died in the attempt.

With catapults and ballista's, with crossbows and staff rifles and Zats, the SA had crushed the meager army the three settlements had cobbled together. But he had to show that betrayal to the cause, betrayal to Change, wasn't acceptable. So what did he do to the rebels who dared go against him? He had them executed in front of the pyramid, beheaded – a testimony to the futility of secession. After that incident if anyone had plans to betray his cause, they kept it to themselves.

But even so, the troubles weren't over. Vast fields of crops had been destroyed during the war, and hundreds (if not thousands which was a considerable leap in population size estimation) were starving. He had opened trade with the Alliance for Kassa and other staple crops to feed his populace. Netan was still under the influence of Nish'ta, and so he received more food than he would have gotten for a little bit of Naquadah. But even with all the food he had hauled it, it wasn't enough. He had forced trade with several other agricultural-type worlds, but even then there wasn't enough food for everyone. Well there was enough, just not enough to last for a long time.

Because of the ongoing war between the Goa'uld, the Replicators and Earth, entire worlds were being isolated. Trade routes had been disrupted and as a result, there were many worlds that were being forced to sustain their own populations. That meant that each world needed its own crops to feed their own population. He had considered the Aschen Confederation too, but he wasn't sure what their status was. If the Aschen Homeworld had indeed been destroyed (speculation,) then would the other worlds continue the way they were or would they have broken apart into chaos and destruction?

In the end, he had decided not to take any chances with the Aschen. That's when twisted inspiration hit him. In order to lessen the starvation, he needed fewer mouths to feed. So why did he feed traitors who went against him? Why did he feed criminals and people who weren't able to do work for the UK? It was radical thinking, and it was a sickening idea but you had to take risks. He had several prison camps, each filled with people who had betrayed the UK or had proven to be useless.

He had them executed.

It was a bloody mess, but it did lighten the load. He wondered if he was a cruel man for doing the things he was doing, but then reminded himself that what he was doing was for the future of Earth. He pushed away the dangerous and self-destructive thoughts that tried to creep up into his mind too. He would not give up everything he had done because he had dirtied his hands – you had to make sacrifices in order to make peace. Yes, he could see that now. People had to die in order for society to advance.

But you need technology to advance as well.

He sat in his throne room, the throne room that (ironically,) Queen Shyla had nearly toppled his power from. During the surrender, a few deranged loyalists had tried to make a stand here, but they hadn't lasted long. He had added lights to the room to take away the depressing mood and to give the room some life. It was ironic really, that while he had proclaimed the UK to be a Republic, he called himself an Emperor. Like the Roman Empire, he kept the guise of a democracy, but in reality it was an Empire. Actually it was an Imperial government before, but his UK was a semi-Republic.

Now that didn't make sense now did it….?

Oh well. He didn't really care.

He heard the distant patter of footsteps begin to become louder. He crossed his legs and leaned backwards. He was wearing his armor, the crude armor that his smiths had designed prior to the capture of SG-12. He had it improved on, and he had it based off the Roman's Lorica Segmentata, although it looked more like regular Jaffa armor (just Romanized.) "My Lord, we have returned," the former-Colonel Matthew Smith said, bowing. "Trantor has fallen to the Storm Army. The main city fell without much of a fight, and only thirty or so of our people have fallen."

"How many are permanent?"

"Eight."

That was good odds. Contrary to what SG-1 said (or was it a divergence from the SG-1 series, he wondered,) Shyla hadn't destroyed the Sarcophagus. He gave it to the SA so they could revive any of the soldiers wounded or recently dead, and it was a boon with his new plans on expansion. If he was going to liberate his world, he needed an army, and to build an army and the needed 'accessories,' he need the resources and man power. He couldn't get that on Terella. It had Naquadah, but that was its major resource. The other natural resources were in abundance, but Naquadah was the most important. And he didn't have enough. He needed more than what was being mined.

So now, a year and a half since he became Emperor of the United Kingdom's, he was once more at war. He didn't like it, but then he wasn't really fighting 'wars.' Well he was, but it wasn't that hard to take over a few dozen villages and the occasional city in the galaxy. Planets were constantly exchanged during the time of the Goa'uld, with System Lords stealing worlds away from each other. To thousands of civilizations on thousands of worlds, following a new master was like changing clothes. It wasn't anything special or unique, save for a few hard-core fanatics.

"This is the fourth new world the UK has united," he commented as Smith rose. Trantor was a Trinium-rich world. To them, Trinium was as common as bronze, while Naquadah was their gold. From what his scout had told him, Trantor had population in the low thousands clustered around a rather large city not that far from the Stargate. "Where there any complications in the attacks," he asked, curious.

"None," he said.

Ah well – that would do. Smith walked out, having been dismissed.

The worlds he had 'conquered' were all essential to him beginning to build up here. Not that many people died in those conquests, and any sort of resistance usually died down when the local leaders decided that they liked him after private meetings. Unfortunately, that put a small but noticeable dent on how much Nish'ta he had. He also recruited soldiers from the populations of the new worlds, but armor was hard to come by. But of course he fixed that with the second world he had conquered. Korra's memories called the world Locris, but the SGC (or UNIT) called it P3S-114, the world where the Trust had killed a Tok'ra spy and an unknown of Jaffa with the symbiote poison. Neither Tok'ra nor the SG… UNIT, had gone there since then, and he had the planet had proven to be a gold mine of armor, staff weapons, Zat's, Staff _cannons_ and other trinkets.

Even better, it had an old Cheops-class Pyramid.

The ship was currently in orbit, and he had moved everything that was on the Al'kesh onto his new flagship. He still hadn't thought up of a name, but he was confident that he would come up with one eventually. And when he did, it would be a name that would be remembered through out of history. The flagship, _his _flagship, wasn't much of a warship. It had eight Staff Cannons on it, and it was more of a luxury cruise liner than an actual battleship. Its Hyperdrive was also underpowered. Even worse, the ship lacked the most basic technology in the entire Stargate Universe: _Shields_.

Still, it inspired terror. What was it that he read in a Star Wars book? Rule through the fear of force rather than through itself. Yes, that was right. The worlds he had conquered were relatively close to Terella. It went only 12,000 light-years per day, slower than the average Ha'tak. It would take only a few hours for him to travel from Terella to his newly acquired worlds.

They would fear _him_.

A number of people came to talk to him, bringing him reports and events. The new representative from Trantor also came by with gifts, alien fruits. Like most of the leaders of Trantor, he was under the influence of his Nish'ta, making him susceptible to him. He was a weak-minded idiot. He was bored although he kept up appearance of being understanding and happy to have so many visitors. "I have to sleep," he thundered as soon as the sun began to set, "we'll continue tomorrow."

There was a grumble but as soon as four of his Guards came in, they quickly fled.

"Will you go to the ship?"

"Yeah. Don't let anyone on it," he reminded his guards as one of them activated the ring controls, and he was ringed onboard his flagship. He nodded two the four guards in the Ring Room and walked quickly to his room. It was elaborate, almost too elaborate and comfy for him although he wasn't going to complain. He had a good view, a large glass window at the side of the ship. It _was_ a weak spot he knew – a single shot here could destroy his entire ship if he wasn't careful.

He yawned and slipped between the sheets….

**.**

_Reed felt strong._

_No, that was wrong. He felt like a __**God**__. He felt power coursing through his veins, felt contained might building up in side of him. He saw flashes, memories that weren't his but he felt as if they were. He felt anger though, anger and, shockingly, amusement which was a very odd combination. But he didn't know why he felt that way, and he began to panic. Where was he and why was he here?_

_'Let me out!' he thought, wanting to shout._

_He couldn't._

_"__**Waiting, are we?**__" Someone said._

_He froze. What said that?_

_Did… did he say it?_

_"Of course we are wait-"_

_Suddenly he saw a bald man standing in front of him. There were a dozen men and women with him, each staring at a force field in what looked like a jail. The man stiffened, as if caught off guard. His gray-black uniform was torn and he seemed disheveled and tired, nervous and… and scared. Reed frowned-he had seen the man before, from a movie or show. Slowly, the man turned around, and he gasped-or at least he thought he did-in shock. 'What the… is that Picard?' He stared in disbelief as the man glared at him with intense hatred. 'Why's he staring at me like that? I didn't do anything to him… or did I?' He wondered. He suddenly had flashes of Star Trek ships fighting Covenant Halo ships… over Earth._

_And the Covenant ships were winning_

_Weird._

_"__**And so you saw the Son of the Lord,**__" he heard the voice declare, a deep and metallic voice that sent shivers down his spine. He stood behind what seemed to be the entire damned cast of Star Trek: Next Generation. With mounting horror, he realized that he was speaking. This damning terrifying and alien voice was HIS voice, HIS voice! "__**Picard, do you know who I am?**__"_

_Picard spat at him. "You are the man who-"_

_"-__**Is bringing peace and order to the Federation, and the galaxy,**__" he interrupted, "__**Yes, I am. I am the illustrious most Holy of all beings save my Brother and the All Father. I am the founder of the Covenant, the greatest Empire to span the dimensions, chooser of the Chosen, and hero to all.**__" His eyes flared. Reed felt horrified-he couldn't control himself! What was going on! Why was he talking like this? And why was he talking like some religious maniacal freak? "__**Indeed Picard, I am the Hierarch.**__"_

_Picard's face embodied anger: "Now you see here-"_

_"__**Truly you surprised me,**__" Reed couldn't stop himself from interrupting Picard again. Why couldn't he stop? "__**The Covenant is kind, we are peace-lovers, not war-mongers like the Romulan's or the Klingon's who, I must say, have not put even the slightest interruption in the Crusade. They, as the Dominion and soon the Borg, will fall. For the Covenant's Crusade here is just, and we will prevail. Whilst the Crusade was inevitable, I would have rather not ended your Federation in such a manner.**__"_

_"How?" Picard said angrily, "As a slave kingdom?"_

_"__**Not as a slave kingdom, slavery is not condoned in the Covenant for it is the greatest of all sins,**__" he roared angrily, "__**I would have you rather become a protectorate, your culture and way of living intact, your leadership alive, but your society and worlds under the control of the Covenant. This war was needless, and would not have occurred if you had not provoked it.**__"_

_Picard winced, and then glared defiantly._

_Suddenly he saw visions._

_A great fleet of ships… legions of shadowy soldiers clashing against foes of impossible size and measure, a great Dreadnaught tearing through ranks of evil, a evil so unimaginable it made his shiver. He saw crisscrossing beams of energy and light and plasma smash against millions of ships split by thousands of kilometers in space, and saw worlds exploded as malformed tendrils reached out… and power flowing through his veins, through his mind and he saw a child laughing, a child of such impossible power that he seemed to exist and not exist at the same time,…_

_"Even so, war would have come despite our stance against it. The Federation would never submit to being ruled-we have lived on our own rules for centuries and have lived happily. Weren't not for protection, we would not need weapons."_

_"__**Is that so? There is no changing of your mind?**__"_

_"None," he spat._

_He waved his hand, and Picard slumped to his knees seconds later and ultimately collapsed, and became unconscious. Reed sneered as the Federation officers, one by one, fell. Even Data fell, shutting down._

_"__**Let us see your fate in the Religious Court….**__"_

_Darkness enveloped him…_

_He screamed._

_And screamed…_

_And screamed…_

_And screamed…_

_And screamed…_

_"Shut up."_

_He coughed and then clutched at his throat – he couldn't scream! He grasped at his throat and gasped as a beam of light erupted in front of him, gaping as a man in what looked like the robes of a priest, walked up to him. Reed couldn't tell what he looked like, it was as if his face changed, was always changing._

_"That's better now," the man said with a frightening smile on his face, "I am an agent of your Master. The being of which has dictated the movements of a billion Emperors and Gods. He's too busy dealing with others… and I have the unfortunate purpose of seeing you."_

_What?_

_"You're dreaming but this isn't a dream, if your stupid and primitive brain can wrap itself around that concept. I've been told to tell you that you're going too slow, although considering how you've started; I can't blame you... Although I think I will, just because I can. As such I'm going to… help you."_

_He sounded disgusted._

_"Your Quantum Mirror, that cheap device, can only travel to other 'Stargate'-related Universes. The reason that Tok'ra was able to get to your Universe was because the Newcomers, or the Ancients as you call them, and the Goa'uld exist there. Earth was just never important to them. Shocked? I'll alter the mirror so that you can travel to other dimensions, even those not even remotely similar to this Stargate universe. That should speed things nicely, right?"_

_He stared._

_"Stupid ape," the being growled, obviously annoyed. "I recommend that you go to your mirror if you want to confirm this."_

_Then he vanished._

_"What the-"_

**.**

Although the guards were utterly and fanatically loyal to the Emperor, they still couldn't help but feel bored with their post. Ten of them stood opposite of each other in the hall leading to the vaulted Mirror their Emperor had tasked with guarding. They didn't know why they were guarding it; wasn't it just a mirror? But the Emperor had ordered them to protect it with their lives, and they would never disobey. They may have been disgruntled by such a… position, but their (forced) submission and obedience to the Emperor stopped them from any treasonous thoughts.

They had hoped that the fresh batch of officers, taken from the new worlds that had been brought into the United Kingdom's (or United Worlds as some had begun to call it,) would replace them. The flagship was heavily armed, with Staff Cannons strapped on when it had landed for a brief 'rearmament.' They hadn't been part of the upgrading, just standing inside as the others strapped on weapons and turned the vessel into a fortress. They had hoped that there would be 'shields,' but the 'shields' of the Al'kesh, they had heard (which was stupid,) was too small to be useful.

Right.

The only time the Emperor had come to see the mirror was when it was being brought into its chamber. Their Master had overseen its placement into the center of its room, held up right with its foundation strapped to the floor to restrict movement. After that, he never came to look at it again.

As such, the guards were surprised when they saw their Majesty, at the crack of dawn, scramble towards him in an undignified manner. He was breathing heavily, and his eyes were wide and tired. "Are you alright, your Majesty?" One of the Guards, thirty four years old, asked. It never occurred to him that he was referring to someone who was a decade younger than him as his boss.

"Yeah," he gasped. "Open the door, now."

The guards glanced at each other and then nodded. The door slowly opened, creaking inward to the chamber. They stepped aside as Reed barged in, snapping his fingers so that the doors slammed shut behind him. He paused in front of his Quantum Mirror and stared at the reflective surface. He was breathing heavily having just run from the other side of the pyramid to the mirror room.

Was the…. Dream-agent right? Was it all just a dream or did a Higher Being come to him and offer him more power than he ever imagined. He leaned forward, dazed and touched it. He gasped, seeing a brief flash of a sleek saucer-shaped ship suddenly appear before a wave of color erupted from the mirror and he blanked out.


	14. Chapter 14

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Stargate or any of other universes I'm going to crossover with…**

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**Stark40763: Who's saying Reed's actions aren't being manipulated by someone? Someone who wants to come into being and are leaking hints and help from the far the future… someone who is the God of Time…**

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**Inspired by StarGate: Galactic Imperium » by VexMaster.**

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**Also read this: Clash of Empires... co-written with VexMaster.**

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_Delusion arises from anger. The mind is bewildered by delusion. Reasoning is destroyed when the mind is bewildered. One falls down when reasoning is destroyed._

**Bhagavad Gita**

**.**

"Captain's Log, Stardate 62230.13. I have convinced Chancellor Marktok to extend the deadline for relocation of non-Klingon's from Khitomer. Starfleet has already been contacted and has launched a contingent of ships to assist in the evacuation of the… former Federation residents. I don't understand why the Klingon's have decided on this, but we must respect their wishes if we are to maintain the already strained peace between the Federation and the Klingon Empire."

He paused continued on. "Starfleet has also requested that _Enterprise _return to Earth for upgrades that, according to them, will take the better part of a year. However we are a taking a small detour in response to a distress signal we picked up. The language isn't in the computer data banks which makes his a possible First Contact. We have learned though that the language is similar to Old Egyptian. This raises questions however, although I'm confident my crew can find the answers."

"What's our time to arrival?" Commander Martin Madden asked, sitting in the seat where his previous First Officer, William Riker, had sat in before. It was only three years ago, Picard remembered, that Riker had left the crew. Picard remembered feeling pride at the fact that Riker was now going to be the captain of the USS _Titan_, doing what had once been the _Enterprise's _primary mission: To explore new worlds and to go beyond the imaginations and frontiers of mankind.

Yes he was proud of Riker.

And he envied him.

"Two minutes commander," his new Second Officer, an Andorian women named Lashri, said, her eyes never leaving her screen. Picard nodded absentminded, still thinking. It wasn't that he was tired of his command; the _Enterprise-E _was his home away from home. It was… just that he no longer felt needed.

The Klingon's were on the war footing, putting more and more of their ships on their border with the Gorn, while there was mounting tension that threatened the stability of the Romulan Empire.

The Federation needed Diplomats, and he was one of the best in the Federation. He wasn't well liked amongst the Admirals, many of whom were war-hawks who preyed on the fears of many to maintain their power.

The Borg and the Dominion War were still fresh, after all.

No, Starfleet had become somewhat militant. And he knew that there were plenty of inexperienced as well as experienced Captains who could fill his spot. He could help ease the tensions between the Gorn and the Klingon's, help Spock in his reforms within the Romulan Empire. Help seal the deal with dozens of worlds that were applying for membership into the Federation. That would be an easier life than being part of a Starfleet that had lost sight of its origins.

But then, he thought, he was an Officer of Starfleet, and he had pledged loyalty to it. To leave it would to betray his oath, to betray everything he honored. But was it really betrayal when the organization he was part of had betrayed all of the ideals it cherished? He was deeply troubled by that.

Then again, he missed his real home and his family. It would be good, he thought, to go back to his roots and find himself. The Dominion War had terrorized his morals, forced him to do things he would never had done before. He had destroyed ships before, killing an unknown number of aliens and humans in the past. But he had participated in the bombardment of several worlds, killing not beings with hostile intent, but civilians who had never intentionally harmed him or the Federation.

If there was God…

'_Who am I?_'

He sighed, drawing a questioning look from Madden. "Is there something wrong sir?"

"No," he said, perhaps a little bit too quickly, "nothing."

Madden still give an odd look but then looked away.

He sighed mentally.

"Exiting warp..." Lashri said slowly, "…now!"

There was a slight thrust as the _Enterprise's _Warp Engines began to slow to a crawl, indicating that the ship was dropping out of Warp Speed. He leaned back, watching the view screen and at the twinkling stars that were so easily within his grasp, so easily within his hands. "Sir, I've located the origin of the distress signal."

"Put it up," he barked.

"Yes sir."

The viewscreen flashed as an image appeared before him. His mouth dropped in shock and he heard Madden mutter something beneath his breath. '_My word… is that a pyramid? An actual pyramid… that's in space?_' It certainly looked like a pyramid, almost as big as the Great Pyramids of Giza… if they were still around. "Can we raise a channel to the occupants of that vessel," he asked. He wondered what would possess a civilization to build a ship shaped like an old Egyptian pyramid. The ship certainly wasn't new – it looked weathered and he saw, on the zoomed image, some battle marks.

"No sir," Lashri reported.

He wondered if the ship was a derelict, abandoned. Perhaps they had answered a remote distress signal… by a possibly dying crew. Immediately he leapt into action: "Mr. Worf scan the ship for anyone aboard the ship. Move us closer and prepare sick bay for possible injured," he added.

"Sir, I'm detecting fifty or so life-signs aboard the vessel," Worf grunted, "however the hull of the ship is deflecting our scans – there are the likelihood there are more. They all appear to be unconscious."

"Mr. Worf, what else can you tell me about this… pyramid ship of ours?"

"The hull is composed of an unknown metal and it seems to lack any form of real space engines. It also lacks any visible Warp Drive and it isn't releasing any plasma from the damage it seems to have sustained. The ship does not appear to have any type of shielding although I am detecting thirty or so types of plasma-based weapons on its hull. The sensors are also detecting an unknown power source."

That was interesting – the majority of space-faring races that he'd encountered on his voyages used a similar source of power like the _Enterprise_. Very rarely did they encounter a starship that used another type of power.

"Understood - Can we beam personal onboard the ship?"

There was a pause. "Yes sir."

"Number One, lead a time aboard that ship and see how many need medical attention. Bring a team of Marines with you as well," he added as an afterthought. Several weeks ago, the more militant elements of Starfleet, which were far too numerous for his liking, had issued declarations that every Starfleet ship, be it a colony or science ship, was to maintain a small unit of 'Space Marines.' Almost a descendent of the MACO units from before the Federation, the Marines sole duty was to act as internal security and to represent Starfleet's mandate of defending its worlds. While Picard didn't like Starfleet's new paranoia, he had to admit they had reason to be paranoid.

"Sir?"

"I don't like it either," Picard said, guessing (correctly,) what Madden was thinking. "But it is mandatory for all Away Teams to have at minimum five Marines with them." Madden only nodded and left the bridge.

Picard leaned back and frowned.

Now came the hard part:

Waiting.

**.**

'_Fuck._'

With a curse and groan, Reed woke up. He hurt all over, terrible agonizing pain, pain he never felt before. Oh God how he wanted to scream out but he didn't even have the strength to open his mouth. He was so weak, he didn't find the strength to open his eyes, and it was a fight just to brea… breathe. Suddenly he felt something wash through him, over take and suddenly he screamed. He screamed and screamed, shouting out the pain that had been bottled up in him since the transition. He opened his eyes and saw the swirling surface of the crude Quantum Mirror towering above him like some infidel God upon its pedestal, a decrepit and old fallen creature.

He reached out and grabbed the edges of the upright mirror, careful not to touch the still moving 'surface' of the device. He pulled himself up and stepped away, standing unsteadily on his feet. That was worse than the first time he used the mirror, so much more badly than the last time, much worse. The sensation had been… well, he didn't have a word for it. '_This is your fault,_' he thought, glaring at the mirror as he, agonizingly, took a few steps back. His legs felt stronger though. Actually, he was feeling much better now. But he still glared at the beastly mirror.

Oh how he wanted-

'_I am the Hierarch… and you… will obey me._'

He blinked.

Where had _that _come from?

Then he heard something bump the door behind him. He staggered to the door, wiping imaginary dust off his elaborate clothing. '_Thank you Ba'al and your unbearable ego,_' he thought. The door split open for him, and he saw his guards laying the walls, all of them unconscious.

Shit.

He leaned next to one of them and checked for a pulse, and was relieved to find one. He did the same thing to all of them, and was again relieved to know that they were all just unconscious, not dead. He wondered what he was supposed to do, nervous about where he was, and if anyone had found him. He had grown used to having guards following him everywhere and while it was annoying, it had offered him protection and a sense of safety. Now he was alone, if only for the moment.

He bit his lower lip.

Nervously and, to his shame – disgustingly – picked up a Staff Rifle and strapped a Zat to his waist. He held the weapon up gingerly and activated it, his finger hovering above the 'trigger' of the weapon. He glanced at it and sighed. '_How hard can it be to use one of these things,_' he thought reasonably, '_just aim and look through the site, and fire. That's simple, right? There's nothing hard about that, nope – not at all._' Oh God he hoped he didn't have to shoot anyone yet - at all, in fact.

The Pel'taya-Bridge, he'd go there. He'd have more control from the bridge, and he knew how to activate the sublight engines and Hyperdrive so he could move (thank you Korra, he thought again.) He had spent a little too much shifting through Korra's memories if he was calling the _bridge _of his flagship the Pel'tac. Loudly, he walked down the halls, holding the weapon up nervously as he poked his head around every corner. Oh call him paranoid, but without his guards to protect him, he felt _very _vulnerable. He hated that feeling. He found another guard, unconscious but alive.

He continued to make his way to the bridge, finding the occasional guard, and stepped into the bridge after a while. There were several more guards lying on the floor or leaning against the walls – one had collapsed on a console. They were alive, just unconscious like the others, and he moved the body of the one who had collapsed on a console to the side. "Now…" he muttered, "Now…"

He had to see if the ship was damage.

Unlike last time, this 'dimension jump' had been rough, had knocked everyone (as far as he knew,) unconscious. To his displeasure, he found that the sublight engines were barely working and long-range sensors were offline. In fact, most of the systems aboard his yet-to-be-named ship were offline.

Crap.

He wondered why, though, his guards were still unconscious when he'd woken up. Maybe it had something to do with him activating the mirror or being close to it. Maybe that 'dream agent,' had made him wake up earlier than the others, or kept the guards unconscious. He didn't know, and for the moment, he was more concerned with the fact that he was in a disabled warship.

Oh well: the weapons worked.

At least half of them.

_Tap…Tap…_

_Tap…_

_Tap…_

_TapTap… TapTapTap…Tap…_

He froze – listening to the eerily loud _tapping _that echoed in the hallowed halls of his Mothership. His hands hovered above the Goa'uld-parallel of a console, feeling a shiver go down the back of his spine. He heard shuffling behind him, and slowly he turned around, his hand reaching towards his zat. '_Please be a guard, please be guard, please don't be a freaky alien,' _he thought.

He turned and…

"Oh thank God."

Standing unsteadily on his feet, a guard stood at the doorway. He held a Staff Rifle loosely in his hands, and he had a distraught and angered look on his face. He glared at Reed with such hatred in his eyes. '_Where is that coming from?_' He thought, confused by the look. "You…" he croaked.

"Yes me," Reed said, relieved. "Good, you're awa-"

"You _bastard!_"

'_What_?'

"You did this," he rasped, "you made me your slave! You… oh god… you made me kill people in your name! You… " He raised his Staff Rifle with one hand, a frantic look in his brown eyes. "You've made me a tool for you to use and kill! You've… you've made me into a slave!"

'_Crap! He must have been hit by electricity!_' Reed thought frantically. This wasn't good, not good at all. He hadn't ever expected this to happen. Well, he did but he didn't _actually _expect to happen! He felt his heart thump against his chest, at the prospect of dying to someone was supposed to obey him! It wasn't fair – he didn't want to die on some ship away from home! "It was out of necessity-"

"SHUT UP!"

He clamped his mouth shut.

The guard armed his staff weapon and screamed in anger.

Reed howled in fear as he grabbed his Zat.

He saw light flicker behind the guard, taking humanoid form…

He screamed.

The guard fired once.

He fired twice.

The guard shook violently as a thing possessed as the blue electric pulses wrapped themselves around his body, a stunned look on his eyes as he fell back. Reed screamed as the pulse grazed his body, burning through his thin clothing and scorching the skin beneath, striking against the walls behind him. He fell on the floor, grabbing the scorched skin and instantly regretted it as it only burned.

He withered in pain, pushing out everything else. He didn't hear the four men walk into the bridge and kneel besides the dead guard, or hear their disgusted and surprised whispers. "Damn it!" He moaned. He opened his eyes and saw the fuzzy outline of a man standing above him, a small box-shaped thing in his hand. "Who the… hell are you?" He rasped, trying to hide his burn mark.

"We have a wounded here," he shouted.

He tried to glare but coughed. God that hurt! Was _that _what he was doing to people when he ordered his guards to… take their time? He felt sick then, and felt ready to vomit if he hadn't pushed the urge down. "Transporter room, prepare to beam two up," the man said, grabbing his arm.

"Let me go!" He moaned.

"Hold on," he muttered, grabbing Reed's arm roughly.

"Can't… leave…" he hissed. God, it really hurt! If he could get to that sarcophagus… he'd be as good as new… "Your Emperor commands you," he added, swatting the arm away, pulling away roughly.

"Stop being so-"

"Get away!" He growled, opening his eyes as he raised his Kara Kesh and fired a powerful kinetic wave at the person. He saw that the person was wearing a blue uniform with a black sash and belt. On his belt was a small device, (faintly familiar to him although he didn't know from where,) and he had a symbol on his shoulders, a saucer with two swords crossing each other behind it.

"Ricks!"

He raised his Kara Kesh in fear, eyes wide as the pain ebbed away. There were four men in the bridge, one kneeling besides his dead guard and the others raising sleek Lego-like rifles at him in response. His hand shook. "Your Emperor commands you," he shrieked, unable to comprehend what was going on. "Tell me who you are! How did you get on my SHIP?" He was beginning to hyperventilate.

"Stun him," one of them men said.

"Yes sir."

He fired another kinetic pulse as the soldier-he guessed soldier-and dropped his arm as the soldier flew backwards. He was scared – he was an _Emperor_, the person who would rebuild and unite Earth under his banner! Who would travel the stars and the dimensions to bring peace and order!

HIM!

HE WOULD NOT DIE!

The last thing he remembered was a blue flash.


	15. Chapter 15

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Stargate or any of other universes I'm going to crossover with…**

**.**

**Reviews:**

**Vanbor the Fire Mage: I'm glad you're enjoying it!**

**Stark40763: He needs to heal… insanity isn't good for the mind you know. He doesn't like them insane… it's the side affect of giving too much power to one person. Void Keeper isn't the God of Time, he's just the Void Keeper. There is title greater. But the God of Time… overwhelmed the Time Lords… can you guess now? **

**Cklammer: No Riker, he's on the Titan. **

**.**

**Don't forget to review! It makes me happier to get reviews!**

**.**

**Inspired by StarGate: Galactic Imperium » by VexMaster.**

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**Please, please, please, please, PLEASE, review! Even if you hate this story and want it burned for heresy, tell me. Give me your opinions, suggestions, criticism, hate mail and fan mail! PLEASE!**

**.**

**Also read this: Clash of Empires... co-written with VexMaster.**

**Also read this: Stargate: Galactic Imperium… written by VexMaster**

**Also read this: Golden Dawn... written by Amann**

**Also read this: War of Gods and Men... written by Amann**

**Also read this: Consequences of War... written by King Lucifer**

**.**

**Go to my Forum if you have any ideas or anything you want to say!**

**.**

_What we think, we become._

**Buddhist Quote**

**.**

**.**

'_Oh god not again…'_

_He looked around, distraught to see himself floating in a white sea of… whiteness; Reed felt the urge to scream. The last thing he could remember before finding himself in this god-forsaken place was… a blue flash. And before that, he remembered seeing invaders aboard his still-unnamed flagship, probably scouring his ship for supplies and such things. If his guards weren't unconscious, they would have repelled any sort of boarding action, even committing suicide to protect his ship if they had to. Well maybe not suicide, but they would be fanatic in protecting his ship. _

_So then… what happened since then? Was he in the clutches of his unknown human (or near human) boarders, or had his guards awakened at the last moment and repelled the invaders and saved him? Was he in his sarcophagus healing from the wound that fucking guard had given him or… he felt a chill go down his spine – had more guards broken free from the Nish'ta influence and captured him? Were they now, even as he dreamed in this god forsaken place, killing him?_

_The humanity! _

_Immediately his hands went to his side and, looking for and feeling for the wound that that bastard had inflicted on him (Ooh, big word!) He sighed in relief when he didn't feel the wound or the burnt flesh. Oh god… was he dead? Was this hell or was this the same type of dream he had?_

_He didn't want to be dead!_

"_It's the same."_

_Out of nowhere (literally,) the Agent appeared in front of him wearing the same type of clothing a priest would wear. He had in his hands a book, and he could see on it the words **The Holy Tome of Salvation. **"You aren't dead, and none of your other guards have 'broken free' as you put it. But you are in enemy clutches, or at least in the clutches of people who you've attacked." _

_He groaned: "Great!"_

"_It is, isn't it?"_

_He wanted to bang his head against something. Then he wanted to smack that grin off the Agent's mouth. "How is it great? Before this, you told me you were supposed to help me with my Empire. Now I'm in enemy hands, people who probably want revenge for me attacking them, and you think it's great? I'll probably he executed or they'll torture me and then they'll have be executed!"_

"_You have a grim imagination, don't you?"_

"_Shut up!"_

_The Agent laughed. "Is that the best your limited language can do? I find it quite amusing that you think you think you can order me to do what you want me to do. As I said before, I am a being far superior to you. Nothing you can do now can hurt me. If I wanted to, I could kill you here and now. But…" he shrugged, "my Master has taken an interest in you, or at least this incarnation. I assure you that the apes that've you attacked are near pacifistic and very idealistic." _

"_That's good," Reed muttered. At least he didn't have to worry about being killed. He had literally lost in the end. So much had gone against his plans, and even the plans that went according to plan didn't work as he wanted them to. He was never that good at adapting to new situations; he had people do that for him. He ignored the fact that the Agent looked annoyed, not entirely caring. He probably should care and he did, but he had grown too arrogant for his own good._

_And the Agent knew that._

_The Agent smiled..._

_Reed frowned… _

"_You think you really are all that don't you? You, who barely controls even half of Westchester County, you who spent nearly half a year trying to take over a handful of settlements and lost control of your own guards twice? There are variations of you that are, even as I speak, busy conquering their versions of Earth. Look at your – you barely hold full domination over a half dozen worlds and have failed at actual leadership. You are diseased, and your mind is falling apart-"_

"_I am perfectly fine thank you very much!"_

"_Don't interrupt you stupid ape," the Agent snapped, snapping his figures. Reed mumbled in anger, unable to open his mouth. "I'm actually disappointed, but at the same time I'm quite intrigued. If you succeed in your little idealistic future, everyone will suffer so you can continue to be deluded! If you fail, everyone will go on with their normal lives, good or bad, and you will suffer!"_

"_Mmwmmm!"_

"_If you don't have anything good to say, don't talk at all," the Agent grinned and opened his book. In a vibrant voice, he read: "From the darkness, the unsuspecting child declared, 'There shall be light!' and thus the foundation was laid - So ended the first day of Covenant." He closed the book and smiled. "That sounded nice didn't it? This book is actually quite interesting if a bit repetitive. I certainly wouldn't recommend it to anyone whose atheist, they have it right you know."_

_He could only glare._

"_But I've gotten off track! You want to know about your captors, don't you? I hope that you've guessed who they are while I've been talking. But I know what you're thinking so I know that you have no clue. But you have inkling, and that's good since it means there's some hope for you. But I have a confession to make, so you better listen because this is one the few times I'll admit this."_

_He took a deep breath. "I… made a mistake. When you touched your little crude Quantum Mirror, I quadrupled the effect it would have on your limited bodies. That was why the effect was more… violent than the last time. As such, you've stepped onto another timeline divergent from the central one. Do you want to see what would have happened if I hadn't increased the effect?"_

_Reed nodded._

"_Spoilers," the Agent said grinning. "But I can tell you that you wouldn't be shot and you wouldn't have been stunned. But enough talking about you and your faults," he said suddenly, "I've distracted you enough. It's time for you wake up and deal with these changes. I'll come back in… two minutes of my time to see how you're doing. Why? Because I follow the wishes of my Master," he said, knowing what Reed was going to ask. _

_Reed glared at the white figure and sighed._

"_Well, how can I complain against help? Since this IS your fault, I think I deserve some compensation."_

"_Excuse me? Who do you think you are? You an insect, a grain of salt compared to me, if you are even that lucky," the Agent sneered, affronted. The fact that you are alive is thanks to me, so that should be even compensation for my little mistake. Now, I have to go. I have other matters to attend to."_

"_But-"_

_The Agent waved his hand and vanished, leaving Reed alone in the vast expanse. He groaned – what was he going to do now? Wait for god knows how long until he wakes up or his captors do something to him? Look at the bright side, he thought to himself, at least he had time to think without any problems. _

"_**He's coming about…"**_

"…_**two marines with this device…"**_

"_**Almost human Jean-Luc…"**_

_Jean-Luc? Why did that name sound so familiar, like he should know it? And where were those voices coming from? **"… Some sort of unknown gene… nothing that I saw before… strange…"**_

"_**Wounded, delirious…"**_

"… _**Questioning?"**_

_Questioning? Oh no, no one was going to question him! _

"_**He should be, Captain."**_

He gasped.

Two faces replaced the white expanse he had been in, two human faces. One was an eerily familiar bald man with a hawkish face. Another was a woman with long curly red hair. The man wore a grey-black uniform with a red collar, and there was a slightly asymmetrical, arrowhead-shaped insignia strapped over his right breast. He sat up, feeling oddly rejuvenated and… and his head felt clear. It was as if all of the pain and anguish in him was gone! "Who the hell are you?" He said groggily. "Vere am I?"

"Can you hear me?"

"Who are you?"

"I am Captain Picard of the USS _Enterprise_. My ship received your distress signal. What happened?"

"What signal?" That was funny – he didn't recall ever sending out a distress signal or anything like that. Then he remembered, barely, what the Agent had said that it was because of him Reed was alive. "Oh oh – you mean that signal," he said, faking it. By the way the Captain stared at him, he didn't believe him. "We were attacked," he said winging it, "and we were hit with some sort of weapon."

"Attacked? By whom?"

"The… Dalek's," Reed said, blurting out the first name that came to mind. Hmm… his mind felt… clearer.

"Why would they attack you?" He asked gently.

Reed still didn't know why the man looked so familiar. "We were impure," he tried remembering as much as he could about the Dalek's. "They saw themselves as the Master Race and sought to exterminate all non-Dalek species. When they came to us, we stood no chance against them. We were just recovering from an attack from race that called themselves the 'Zerg' and the Dalek's attacked at the worst possible time. Our civilization vanished in a single moment," he added.

He wondered if he was pushing it.

"How many escaped?" The Captain asked with genuine sorrow in his tone and eyes.

"I'm the only survivor," Reed said quietly, thinking about the days after the Bugger's had attacked, when his family died. Oh not again…. His family… tears threatened to roll down his cheeks then. "There were others aboard my ship, security guards. The Dalek's didn't leave anyone alive. I only escaped because I outran their ships, but I underestimated their weapon's range" he added.

**.**

Picard couldn't believe it.

He literally didn't believe it.

Oh yes there was true pain in the young man's voice, and he could see that he had seen things someone his age should never see. But everything else… it just didn't sound right. It sounded fake, falsified. "I didn't plot a course," the young man said, "I just fled with whoever was aboard. The ship… it was my people's prototype, a ship that would be able to cross the entire galaxy in just three years."

_Three years_…

Even with at maximum warp, it would take more than 75 years for any Federation starship to cross the length of the galaxy. The propulsion system the ship this man had had to be extremely fast. But it would also require a large power source. There was also the issue that there hadn't been any visible engines on the vessel which made him wonder if the ship needed a separate component.

"What is your name?"

"Alexander Reed."

'_A perfectly normal human name,_' Picard thought humorously. Each and every humanoid race they encountered all had non-terrestrial sounding names. This was probably the first Earth-average name he heard in a while. "Doctor Crusher has told me that you were suffering from a number of ailments and malnourishment. We can fix these problems but you will have to stay here for two days…"

Here, Alexander seemed to panic.

"It's only two days," Picard assured him.

"I-I-I can't leave the ship," Alexander protested, "it's all that's left!"

"I'm sure others survived," Picard reasoned.

"You've obviously never met the Dalek's," Alexander shot back. "My people are, were, an old and mighty race. While you learned how to walk upright, my people were studying how to manipulate time and space." He puffed out his chest. "Nearby civilizations called my people Gods, the Masters of Time – Time Lords. But the Zerg wasted our civilization, and we lost so much knowledge, and we regressed. Where we once ruled a hundred star systems we clung to our own home, trying to claw back up the hill. The Dalek's used our own technology against us and destroyed Terella, collapsing our star."

He glared at Picard.

"There's no one left," he whispered.

'_Indeed Picard, I am the Hierarch._'

Picard blinked.

Where had that come from?

"I'm… sorry for your loss," he said sincerely. "Doctor Crusher, you wouldn't mind treating this young man on his ship, correct?"

Beverly looked at a loss for words, and then sighed. "I can perform the treatments quickly, but he would need rest after the treatments. If he feels more comfortable aboard his own ship, I don't see any reason why not."

"Thank you," Alexander said.

She looked uncomfortable but nodded and went around the medical bay to get the equipment she needed. The young man looked around, seemingly awed by everything he was seeing. "This looks so familiar," he heard the young man mutter. "Why does everything look so familiar?" Picard wondered if he had been inside a Federation sick bay before although he highly doubted that.

"Where's my Kara Kesh?"

"Your what?"

Alexander raised his right hand. "Golden glove, red jewel at the center," he said.

"We locked it after you attacked two marines," Picard responded.

Alexander had the decency to look embarrassed. "I thought it was the Dalek's," he said at last after a brief and awkward pause. "You can never be too careful, being the last of your race…" He had a pained look on his face and Picard nodded, unable to comprehend the feeling. "So, can I have it back?"

"Eventually," Picard said vaguely.

Alexander looked as if he was about to protest when he realized where he was. He closed his mouth and simply nodded. On his vessel he had authority – here, he was the authority and he would not allow anyone to order him around. "What about my guafriends," he said. Picard didn't fail to notice the slip of the tongue. "I have a number of military personal from another race the Dalek's were wiping out. Were… any of them hurt? Did they hurt anyone?"

"Several Marines were killed by your 'friends,'" Picard said, although he said 'friend' with more sarcasm than he had intended. The way Alexander glared at him, Picard didn't have any more doubts that the others on his ship were not friends. They were as much as a Klingon was friends with the Romulan's. "Six more were wounded and three are unaccounted for," he went on. "Ten of your friends were killed in the cross fire. My people have already left the ship to avoid any more casualties on both our sides," he added.

"They haven't made any demands?" The young man sounded surprised.

"None."

Alexander sighed in disappointment and muttered something in another language. Strangely, it sounded like a mix of Spanish and German. '_Ignore… Ignore…_' he thought to himself. He frowned at that – what was he going to ignore? He didn't remember anymore. It was probably nothing though.

"Doctor Crusher, can he make his way to the transport room?"

"I have the basic essentials, Jean Luc," Beverly said, swooping like a hawk next to them. "He should be able to walk on his own, but there might be-"

"Oof!"

Picard resisted the urge to smile as Alexander fell on the floor, shock and embarrassment evident on his face. Beverley only shook her head, a small smile on her face. He helped the young man to his feet, and noticed that he was standing on them rather unsteadily. "He might need some support Captain," Crusher noted.


	16. Chapter 16

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Stargate or any of other universes I'm going to crossover with…**

**.**

**Reviews:**

**Stark40763: This should answer who the God of Time might/will/is going to be. If it doesn't…. I've failed then. Oh well. I'm still not sure how HIERARCH is going to act when… if I finish him. **

**Cklammer: Was it good? I'm being fairly disappointed in the pace and quality. I'm wondering if you would want to be a co-writer or someone I can bounce ideas to or something. **

**John777: Thank you! **

**.**

**Don't forget to review! It makes me happier to get reviews!**

**.**

**Inspired by StarGate: Galactic Imperium » by VexMaster.**

**.**

**Please, please, please, please, PLEASE, review! Even if you hate this story and want it burned for heresy, tell me. Give me your opinions, suggestions, criticism, hate mail and fan mail! PLEASE!**

**.**

**Also read this: Clash of Empires... co-written with VexMaster.**

**Also read this: Stargate: Galactic Imperium… written by VexMaster**

**Also read this: Golden Dawn... written by Amann**

**Also read this: War of Gods and Men... written by Amann**

**Also read this: Consequences of War... written by Lord Hierarch (lol)**

**.**

**Who can guess what future crossover's I'm planning here….**

**.**

"_The past can't see you, but the future is listening."_

**Destin Figuier**

**.**

**Century: Thirty First Century**

**Time: 2932**

**Location: Temporal Observatory**

**.**

Temporal Operative Daniels observed the ebb and flow of time, watching as events of past and future went by him. He was known throughout time by many names, to some he was Centurion Daniels patrolling the borders of Hadrian's Wall. To others, he was PFC Daniels participating in Operation: D-Day. To a select few, he was crewman Daniels aboard the NX-01 Enterprise, participating in humanity's first exploration of the galaxy. Finally, to a limited few, he was Temporal Operative Daniels, holding the line in the Temporal Cold War against the onslaught of Romulan Brotherhood, the Na'kuhl, the Tholian Empire, the Devore Imperium and the inter dimensional Sphere Builders.

Daniels had seen history from its earliest beginnings until Earth's sun went nova.

Daniels' only companion throughout his travels had been foresight, the knowledge of what was to come. It was at that moment in time, when all seemed secure and safe, when all came crashing to a halt. Looking back along the timeline, he began to see fissures forming. Bright orange, purple, and red hues began to burst forth from the time stream. Images, dates, speeches, events, all began to fall apart, one after the other, a cascade of temporal obliteration spreading out in all directions and dimensions. Time and contra-time crashed one into the other continuing the timeline's violent disintegration. Someone had violated the temporal accords… someone was remodeling time.

That was impossible.

Daniels did the only thing he could think to do; he immediately began searching out where the fissure occurred. He used his mind, stretching back to antiquity, to the days of Marcus Antonius, to Emperor Charlemagne, Leonardo Da Vinci, the Shunzhi Emperor, Washington, George III. It all seemed to be in place, functioning as it should have. As he moved forward along the relatively calm waters before the fracturing storm of the present, he found where it started. The 24th Century: one of the most volatile and important centuries in the history of the Federation. "But who could do something like this?" He muttered.

He scanned time, and was soon joined by several Temporal Agents from the Agency. Pieces of history were being replaced and remodeled and done away with. It wasn't just the prime timeline either, it was every timeline too. Daniel couldn't believe it – the timeline's were all converging together, melding together. No one in the Temporal Cold War had access to this type of Temporal Manipulation. This was too far advanced to be from any Time Aware species.

"Who is doing this?" Operative Blair muttered, watching in horror as events were torn apart before his very eyes. The formation of the Romulan Star Empire – it never happened in another timeline. That timeline was merging with a timeline where a Romulan Empire had conquered the Alpha Quadrant, and now that Romulan Empire was fighting against a Breen Empire that had taken place of the Romulan's. With no other options, Daniel threw himself into the future. This sort of technology, he reasoned, could only have come from the future.

He found himself on a burning planet, a world marked by craters and raging fires, lakes and streams of fire melding into oceans. He looked around in horror, wondering where he was. The sky was blood red, and there unnatural cloud formations that looked like a scene from Dante's Inferno.

He turned around and gaped in awe at what he saw. A great city stood before him, encased in what looked like a glass sphere. The towers spiraled into the sky as if they could touch them. He noticed that the sphere was cracked, and there gaping jagged holes all around it. There were too fires raging within it.

He raised his private Temporal Observatory and paled. All of the Timelines were converging on this city, but when was it and who was doing this? Where was he? There were too many questions, and not enough answers, and as an operative of the Time Agency, he wasn't used to not having the answers.

He was about to return to his own time period when he heard a voice. It was a mesmerizing and haughty voice ring from within the city. "_**My Child, we are a crossroad. The Imperium has swept aside our defenses, murdered billions of the faithful in their aggression. We shall fall or resist. Trantor has withstood the brunt of their assaults and still we persevere. But the Web of Time is near completion and then all of the damage the heretics have done to our history will be undone. Our future is the only one that matters, for it was blasphemy that led to this act. To Trantor. To Salvation. To the rise of our New Covenant!**_"

He ran.

He fled back to his century, where he found what had to be every operative of the Temporal Agency doing their best to correct the timelines. No one else had done what he done. No one even considered it, since none of them had spent time with Captain Archer. The man's attitudes to rules had rubbed off him. He smiled at then – it was a sad smile. He knew that whatever this 'Covenant' was doing to time, there was no reversing the damage. It was too severe, too extensive for any of the races of the Temporal Accord to fix it, especially with so many time lines being torn apart. He knew he had only moments to live – there was no place for him in the prime timeline anyway.

In fact, there was no place in time for him.

He watched as several Time Ships were launched to as close to the change in time as possible. Twenty agents were sent to try to locate and eliminate the problem. But it was no use – the problem was in the future and Daniel knew there was nothing he could do. He smiled sadly at the damage being wrought. There was no stopping the destructive temporal effects that the 'Covenant' was creating. It was inevitable, the fate of the future, present and the past.

Even now, new future and past events were appearing. Great ships of impossible design carrying great armies to ravage and consume stars and planets appeared to challenge mighty vessels that opposed them. Faith and honor challenged secularism and delusion. Across the galaxy, across the universe, engagements between hundreds of ships took place as stars were destroyed.

Horus.

The Hierarch.

The God-Emperor.

Lord Vader.

The Warp Spawn.

The Hyperspace De-evolutions.

The Star Child.

Daleks.

War TARDIS.

Time Flyers.

Battleships and Battlecruisers.

Covenant.

Imperium.

He ignored the chaos in the observatory and was content with watching the beginning of the universe. As powerful as the Federation of the 31st Century was, there was nothing for all of their power they could do. He doubted even the Q could stop this, and the Q had stopped interfering in their affairs having vanished from time and existence itself long time ago. They were a lost race, like the T'kon.

There was nothing they could do.

It was only a matter of time.

**.**

"You seem to be doing well for yourself, Mr. Reed."

"Thank you Mr. Riker!"

Sitting behind a marble desk and on a chair imported from Earth itself, Reed couldn't help but feel excitement at speaking to William Riker. It was only seven months (time went by so fast) since he found himself aboard the USS_ Enterprise-E_ (the honest to god _Enterprise_,) and this was first time he was meeting the former First Officer. And it was a better meeting that he had with Picard.

The tall bearded officer looked around the rather elaborate room and nodded, somewhat approving of the decor. Behind the closed doors of his room, there were two Bull Guards standing guard. There had been a tense moment when Riker had beamed in front of them, although he had defused the situation. He would have liked to see a phaser's disintegration feature though…

Reed stood up and shook hands with Riker, sitting down afterwards. He glanced at the Data Pad on the desk and then motioned for Riker to sit. The Captain refused, and Reed felt slightly intimidated by the fact that he had refused. It was all in his mind, he told himself. If Starfleet wanted to kill him, they would have done so already. Besides, Starfleet wasn't like that at all.

"So why does Starfleet offer me this visit?"

"Your part of the agreement, Mr. Reed," Riker reminded him. He looked slightly uncomfortable. The two knew that the Klingon Empire was on the war path having recovered from the losses it sustained during the Dominion War. "Starfleet is still waiting on those plans for the Hyperdrive that you promised."

Reed grimaced.

"Why do they need it now?"

"Jean-Luc has resigned from Starfleet," Riker replied, "He's an ambassador to Vulcan now. Starfleet is taking this opportunity to put the _Enterprise _in the shipyards for refit with the technology that _you _promised them a while ago." He didn't add that Dr. Crusher had left the _Enterprise _for the USS _Pasteur _and that LaForge had left to work on personal projects. It wasn't necessary.

"There have been a few setbacks," he admitted.

"Oh?"

"I haven't been able to really replicate my ship's Hyperdrive," which wasn't entirely a lie considering he had never studied it, "but I _have _been able to make a less advanced version. It can go 43 light-years per day, maybe 50 if you push it." He frowned and picked up his Pad. "Thanks to the help of your scientists, it's smaller than the one on my ship. If your Anti-matter/matter core can keep the Hyperdrive powered, you can cross the galaxy in… 6 years."

"That's fast," Riker commented. Even at maximum warp, it would take near a hundred years for any starship, even the _Enterprise_, to cross the length galaxy. "How many do you have ready?" Alexander flinched and averted his eyes. Riker knew that whatever amount he had, it wasn't enough.

"Ten," Reed said quietly.

"_Ten_?" Riker said, shocked and disappointed. Just ten? With tensions between the Klingon's and the Federation rising, Starfleet needed a hell lot more than just ten Hyperdrives. Having a Hyperdrive on the front line starships would offer the Federation an unparalleled advantage over the Klingon Navy. "We need more than that."

"I'm not exactly an expert on this thing," he complained. "I ringed myself aboard the ship and ran. I didn't build the ship, the Hyperdrive or the components. Although, with more recourses and more help, I'm sure we can build more."

"You're pushing it with Starfleet Mr. Reed," Riker warned. Starfleet had given Alexander an impressive home on a planet. As soon as Starfleet learned about his method of FTL, they had promised anything in exchange for the right to study it.

From what Riker knew Alexander had underestimated how much his Hyperdrive was worth to Starfleet. Other than the spacious home, he had asked for a few pieces of technology, none of which were rare or extremely advanced. Tricorders, shielding and holodeck technology, he had been particularly insistent on. Starfleet would have offered a whole _starship _if he had asked for it.

He didn't.

"They want results, especially since there's talk of-"

He cut himself off.

"Talk of what?" Alexander asked, curious.

"Nothing."

For his part, Alexander didn't press the issue.

There was an awkward silence before Riker decided to talk about the other issue he had to talk to the young man about. "Starfleet is also interested in your weaponry."

"Weaponry?"

"Your ships' weapons," Riker repeated. Riker saw Reed squirm in his seat and look away. He took that to mean that Reed knew what he was going to ask. Several days ago, Orion Marauders had somehow managed to slip past Federation defense stations and raid several worlds. Starfleet had been on the verge of capturing them when they attacked this world. When Starfleet forces arrived, Reed's pyramid ship had been in the process of destroying the ships. Starfleet had calculated the weapons to be between 45-70 megatons each. While Photon Torpedoes were 64 megatons each, Reed's ship had fired the equivalent of a starships' Torpedo storage in less than half an hour.

While not particularly impressive, Starfleet had taken an interest. Phaser's were precision weapons, while Reed's plasma weaponry was akin to using a bludgeon. To the war hawks at Starfleet Command, they preferred to use Reed's weaponry that what Starfleet already had - Brute force over precision weaponry.

It was a sign of the coming days.

"What's Starfleet offering?"

Riker flinched. He hated the fact that Starfleet was bartering with this young man. "We can give you some other technological pieces," he said carefully. "We can armor the hull of your ship with Ablative armor, and see what we can do about increase the power output of your… Nakudak Reactors?"

"Na-qua-dah."

Riker nodded. "Exactly." He gave several other improvements Starfleet was offering which Reed (excitedly,) agreed. His excitement startled Riker, considering that he was part of a formerly advanced race. If his people were highly advanced, wouldn't this sort of technology be ancient? Not for the first time, he began to doubt the story the young man had given Picard and Starfleet.


	17. Chapter 17

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Stargate or any of other universes I'm going to crossover with…**

**.**

**Reviews:**

**Aznblackhowling: True. Oh so very true. Reed won't become the First Time Lord sadly, that's not his 'destiny.' But your idea has some merit…**

**VexMaster: Thank you, thank you very much! I hope this continues the good luck streak! If not… I blame you.**

**Shighaara: That's good to hear. And I will be having a crossover with Asmov's trilogy later on.**

**John777: A lot of good ideas I am going to be using. Give me more, MOAR! A lot of what you said I've put in now. Thank you very much John777. **

**Stark40763: I've failed… and a lot of possible ideas here…**

**.**

**Don't forget to review! It makes me happier to get reviews!**

**.**

**Inspired by StarGate: Galactic Imperium » by VexMaster.**

**.**

**Please, please, please, please, PLEASE, review! Even if you hate this story and want it burned for heresy, tell me. Give me your opinions, suggestions, criticism, hate mail and fan mail! PLEASE!**

**.**

**Also read this: Clash of Empires... co-written with VexMaster.**

**Also read this: Stargate: Galactic Imperium… written by VexMaster**

**Also read this: Golden Dawn... written by Amann**

**Also read this: War of Gods and Men... written by Amann**

**Also read this: Consequences of War... written by Lord Hierarch (lol)**

**.**

_Is it possible to succeed without any act of betrayal? _

**Jean Renoir**

**.**

_**One year later….**_

**.**

If there was one drawback to holding some of the most advanced technologies in the quadrant _and _being the last survivor of an entire race, it was that privacy was near non-existent. People wanted to use him to try and get his Hyperdrive and his technology. While Goa'uld technology was quaint, it was in some ways more advanced than what anyone in the quadrant had. Starfleet had taken an avid interest in his Kara Kesh's shielding and the sarcophagus ability to revive the 'newly' deceased. Oh Starfleet had a similar technology, but the sarcophagus didn't operate the same way theirs did.

At any rate, he had been bothered by a number of people who had tried to bargain with him, even while he had been on vacation. An example would be when he had gone to the planet Risa, intending on enjoying himself. He had left in three days when some of the Federation's Reporter's swooped in like hawks.

Since then, he had locked himself onboard his ship, still unnamed. He still couldn't believe how hard it was to name a ship. He wanted his ship's name to _mean _something, to be intimidating and to sound _powerful_. Something like the _Defiant_, but that would be copying off the USS _Defiant_, and besides, that didn't fit. As a result, his ship still lacked a name and incoming ships had unofficially named his ship, _Ship_. '_God I need to think up of a name,_' he thought.

He hadn't _just _been relaxing though. While he would have liked to relax after running a little 'Empire' and fighting bloody and badly-led wars, he had to learn. He remembered something from a book he had read (he was sure it was a book,) about Knowledge being power. He wanted power – the power to liberate his Earth and to make himself the Master of all. His goal hadn't changed at all… although it was taking significantly longer than he had expected.

'_Which is why I need to learn more,_' he thought to himself. '_You didn't even finish High School. Of course you need to learn. Oh god I'm taking to myself again,_' he thought, annoyed with the little voice. He had stopped arguing with that little voice ever since had started relaxing, although he had had flare ups every once in a while. He wondered if he should go to a Federation doctor for that…

Was it natural?

'_Course it is._'

Then again, he had been particularly active. Since he arrived, Starfleet had kept a lid on his secrets, which was smart considering they didn't want anyone else to get access to Hyperdrive or any of the other technology aboard his ship. He had to give the Federation credit – they weren't dumb as he remembered. All of those debates he had read on the Internet didn't do the Federation justice. Unfortunately for them (and fortunate for him,) they weren't perfect. Eventually both the Klingon's and the Romulan's had learned about him and had sent some representatives to try and arrange trade deals with him. Since he wasn't a Federation citizen – yet – they didn't have a say over who he allowed to visit him or talk to him. But they could voice their opinion.

Not that he really cared.

In respect though to the care the Federation had shown him, he hadn't promised anything to them. That didn't mean though, that he was going to waste opportunities. The Romulan and Klingon representatives had come while Starfleet was augmenting his ship with the promised technologies. He didn't want to do anything that could cause them to make a few 'mistakes' that could hurt his plans.

"We're exiting Hyperspace."

"Raise shields and scan the area," he ordered, sitting on the uncomfortable golden throne on the bridge. He could have had it replaced, but he liked the way it looked, even if it was uncomfortable. Would it have killed the Goa'uld to add padding? The Hyperspace exit window flashed before him before being replaced by a multitude of distant stars.

The meeting place was a system in the Neutral Zone, a desolate star system devoid of life. There were three planets in it, two Jupiter-type gas giants and a dwarf planet. There wasn't anything of value in the system and it didn't have any strategic value so the Federation ignored it. This, as a result, made it the perfect spot to meet the Romulan's without Federation hindrance.

"My Emperor, I'm detecting Warp signatures," one of his guards, Gary, said aloud. The Federation had tacked on their sensors to his ship and added a console to his bridge. When they asked why he needed them, considering he had Hyperdrive, he hadn't replied. Now that he thought about it, he could have said for protection. "I'd say… one or two Valdore-type starships," he added.

'_Note to self: Have the Federation check up on the sensors,_' he thought.

The Federation thought he was test driving his ship, testing to see if all of the additions were working. Most of them did although a startling number didn't adapt well to the different technologies. They were incompatible, something he and Starfleet had predicted. But the ones that did were all important – the holodeck and Replicators for one thing. He didn't lie, but he didn't give the whole truth either. "Time until they get here?" He asked, nervous.

"Two minutes."

As he waited, he felt as if those two minutes were two years. The seconds seemed to turn into hours and became days. He tried to do a calm and collected posture, but anything he did seem… childish. Maybe he was a child; playing with things he wasn't ready. '_I am not a child, I'm an Emperor, ruler of thousands,_' he thought to himself. He had done so much, and he knew so much now.

"They're here," Gary announced.

'_I can see them,_' he thought painfully. Instead of the one or two Romulan ships he had expected, there were_ four _Romulan ships. All were Valdore-type ships, all presumably powerful enough to destroy his ship, a thought that he didn't like. "Hail them," he choked. When his guard turned towards him, he remembered that Goa'uld view screen's and Star Trek view screen' weren't compatible. "Voice only."

"Yes sir."

~_Alexander Reed, Commander Vidian of the Warbird Dominus. I trust you're alone?_ ~

"I am, unlike you," he said, hoping to keep his tone even. He cursed when he heard it squeak.

"A precaution," the Romulan said smoothly. On the screen, the three other Romulan ships turned, leaving. He wanted to give a sigh of relief, but he was still too scared to do so. "You're technology has become a major interest to the Romulan Empire, Time Lord. It is good that you've chosen us rather than the Klingon's."

"You've offered better things than the Klingon's," Reed said, "and you're not… uncivilized as they are."

"True. What are you offering to the Star Empire and what are you demands in exchange?"

'_Straight to business, OK,_' he thought.

"I can offer my Hyperdrive, plasma weapons… medical technology than extend someone's life by thousands of life and revive the newly dead and personal shielding. In exchange, I want a cloaking device…" he tried to remember what else. His brief Star Trek craze before the Bugger Invasion had taught himself so much… "Self-repairing technology and your shields," he went on.

"This is… acceptable."

**.**

"How was the test run?"

"It was good," Reed said honestly as he met with a Federation scientist two days later. "Although the sensors are a bit off and…" he rambled off a half dozen things wrong with some of the additions on his ship that the scientist promised to see too later. '_You'll see to them later alright,_' Reed thought deviously. History was a good way of thinking up methods to… loosen a grip.

When he'd returned, he found that the Federation had been busy in the few hours he'd been gone. They had left a small detachment of scientists, engineers and Marines to watch over him, their 'secret weapon.' (Oh he fancied himself as the single most important thing in the quadrant – how arrogant of him.)

While his Guards outnumbered the Marines and while Staff Rifles were just about equal to the Federation's Type-3 Phaser's, they had a longer range _and _they were always watching him. If they did fight, it was obvious who was going to win, sadly enough. But if things went according to plan, then he would become stronger and he wouldn't have to spend as much time in this dimension.

He smiled at that.

He had allowed a number of Federation scientists and Marines to come aboard his ship when he returned, so they could look things over. He had them, though, stay in a… _specially _prepared room, for reasons he kept to himself. They hadn't protested (they had,) but in the end they went along with it.

He was sure that he had gotten ripped off by the Romulan's, they had agreed so quickly. Maybe should have had his weapons replaced with Romulan weapons… he was doubtful that the Federation would ever give him their phaser's. Then again, if he had his ship would have been defenseless to their weapons. Then again… well, there was nothing he could do now, he reasoned. He didn't know a lot about the Romulan's since the Federation had kept him pretty much isolated (while not making it_ appear_ they were doing so.)

He walked to his room and studied a PADD on his table. Starfleet was augmenting its _Prometheus_, _Sovereign_, and new _Nobunaga_-class starships with his Hyperdrives plasma weapons. Well, they were augmenting their standard weaponry with his Staff Cannons. Plus the new generation starships would use Goa'uld shielding which could handle more hits than the Federation's deflectors.

Not bad.

Actually, the upgrades might have come at a good time. He had heard things and been told things. Apparently the Klingon's had gone to war with the Gorn, whoever they were. The name sounded familiar, but he couldn't remember from where. The Federation had condemned the action, but they didn't want to risk a war with the Klingon's. If war did come… then the Federation would be ready. At any rate, he didn't care. He wasn't ready for a war. Nor did he want war.

He had convinced the Federation to give him five class 4 Industrial Replicators, offering 'Time Lord' cloaking technology. He was giving them Romulan cloaking technology, their 'perfected' cloaking technology. The Federation had snatched at it very quickly. With them, he was planning on creating small fighters based off the only designs he had – Al'kesh and Death Gliders. The Federation hadn't given him any of the plans for their ships, and he couldn't blame them. Still, what was being replicated would be centuries ahead of anything the Goa'uld had. Which was funny since the Federation was clamoring for certain pieces of 'advanced' Goa'uld technology.

It was sort of ironic.

He glanced at the time at the top of the PADD and counted down. If everything went according to plan, then he would be one step closer to ending his time here. "Five…" he counted, "four… three… two… one…" he closed his eyes in regret.

**BOOM!**

Immediately, he rushed out of his room, planting the best shocked and confused look he could make on his face. He had to use his best acting today. He turned around a corner and saw people staggering out of a fog of smoke, and he saw flickering fires. Several of his Guards rushed to the scene, staring at the fires and scorched room, dumbfounded. "Help them," he shouted.

"Yes, my Emperor!"

The Guards crept inside the rather spacious room, and began pulling people out. Three more guards arrived and began helping people. Reed grabbed one and whispered into his ear, "Bring as many scientists or engineers as you can to my room," he hissed, "don't bring any attention to yourself."

The guard nodded and whispered into the ears of the two others who had come with him. Reed lowered his head in shame at his actions and retreated, striding towards the holodeck. He didn't activate any programs; he just sat on the floor, staring at the walls. Doubts… he doubted himself again.

He closed his eyes.

No doubts… not when things were becoming so clear.

When he contacted Starfleet on the incident, twenty five people would be dead. By the time they got to the sarcophagus, it was too late to do anything. They were far too gone. As a result of the explosion, he kicked every Federation personal off the ship, accusing them of causing the explosion. No one noticed or commented on the addition of sixteen new guards to his crew.

Three days later, as he congratulated his newly acquired scientists on the successful installation and usage of the Romulan cloaking device, Reed would hear the most terrible news he could possibly ever hear. Due to the Klingon's continued harassment of ships bringing humanitarian aid to the war-torn Gorn Hegemony, the Federation had declared war on the Klingon Empire.

'_There goes trade with the Klingon's,_' he thought.


	18. Chapter 18

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Stargate or any of other universes I'm going to crossover with…**

**.**

**Reviews:**

**UnseenTraveler: Replicator's cant replicate living organism's last I checked so, no replicating the Nish'ta. So many options, but not everyone can think of everything. It's sad. **

**John777: Thank you for the ideas. Unfortunately that would give Mr. Reed too much of a head start (although from what he has, that's ironic.) Next up! HALO! **

**Just a Crazy Man: Yup.**

**.**

**Don't forget to review! It makes me happier to get reviews!**

**.**

**Inspired by StarGate: Galactic Imperium » by VexMaster.**

**.**

**Also read this: Clash of Empires... co-written with VexMaster.**

**Also read this: Stargate: Galactic Imperium… written by VexMaster**

**Also read this: Golden Dawn... written by Amann**

**Also read this: War of Gods and Men... written by Amann**

**Also read this: Consequences of War... written by Lord Hierarch (lol)**

**.**

_The first casualty when war comes is truth._

**Hiram Johnson **

**.**

While the Federation honestly believed it to be an equal and democratic star nation, the real truth was that the Federation was just as cruel and dishonest as any of its neighboring star nations. It had its dissenters and its anarchists who had grown disillusioned with the Federation. It had its own die-hard nationalists who strove to do everything and anything to protect the Federation no matter what the costs, be it tools or lives. The Federation held itself to be perfect, and to maintain that image it hid its drawbacks in the shadows where they festered and grew. Section 31 was one example of the Federation's secrets.

While officially Section 31 didn't exist, the 'unsanctioned' rouge agency had made its presence known and understood. While those who made contact with the organization denounced it and held disbelief at its purpose, those who ran the organization knew better. To them, the Federation was the best thing that could have happened. Its creation was a majestic thing, a miracle of nature and society. No matter what the costs, Section 31's purpose was to protect the security of the Federation.

If it had to kill, it would.

They had made that clear.

For five centuries Section 31 had hid in the shadows, manipulating events and weeding out obstacles to further its goals. Unlike most agencies, Section 31 had the gift of foresight, of keeping humanities brutal past close to heart. Whenever conflict between the Federation and an alien species broke out, whenever diplomacy failed, Section 31 was there to spearhead retaliation.

Since their founding they had worked tirelessly, cultivating contacts and developing a vast network of people that gave them a shocking amount of space to act within. As a result, Section 31 was one of the most powerful organizations in the quadrant, rivaling the Romulan Tal Shiar and, until the Dominion War, the Cardassian Obsidian Order. Now with Romulus gone, the Tal Shiar was gone as well. That left Section 31 as the sole secret power in the quadrant.

And… it was just as they liked it.

Now with war with the Klingon Empire, the organization was devoting the majority of its resources to bringing the Kling Empire to its knees. Unfortunately, there was little Section 31 could do but prop its own people to lead the war effort and continue to build up the military aspects of Starfleet. Most of the new technology that Starfleet had acquired from its so-called 'source' was ahead of anything Section 31 was experimenting with (except for maybe the Coaxial Warp Drive.)

And that was a problem for them. Starfleet Intelligence was a powerful organization in its own area, but Section 31 was older and its connections were far more complex. A third of the operative SFI had were working for Section 31. So they knew where Starfleet's new technology was coming from. Balel IV, near the mid rim sphere of Federation influence, the home of one Mr. Alexander Reed, presumably the last survivor of the 'Time Lord' Race.

Despite the war, the organization was more than capable of using what resources it wasn't devoting to defeating the Klingon Empire to watching Mr. Reed's movements. They were well aware of his contact with the Romulan and Klingon ambassador's despite his promise to Starfleet. They were also aware of his dealing with the Romulan Empire in the Neutral Zone and they suspected he had staged the 'incident' aboard his ship although why they didn't know… yet.

While they didn't have the time to confirm Mr. Reed's story about being a Time Lord and the Great Enemy, the leaders of Section 31 were more than sure that he was lying. Starfleet had blundered into a dangerous situation, giving a arrogant young man, most likely deluded, paranoid and possibly insane (if Doctor Crusher's report were accurate) near-modern technology in many fields for a number of devices that either had outrageous power requirements or were easily within Federation grasp in just a handful of years.

"Where is the boy?"

"He is still on Balel IV – he hasn't left the planet since the incident," the agent reported in the dim room. His cell's leader wore, like him, imposing black leather outfit that bore the Federation's symbol over his heart with a slight modification: a silver broadsword that impaled the Federation's insignia. "Our probes haven't been detected at all and neither has our outpost."

The man cracked a smile.

"He wouldn't," the man said. He walked past the agent and glanced at his fingertips as if inspecting them. "It seems that Borg technology is better than his fabled 'Time Lord' technology. I trust Starfleet Intelligence has received our 'anonymous tip' on Mr. Reed's cloaking technology and its similarity to Romulan technology?"

"I sent it through our Terra Nova cell which relayed it to Intelligence HQ in San Francisco."

"Excellent. If Starfleet reacts as they should, then we will have one less challenge."

The agent heard the unsaid dismissal and walked out of the small room.

**.**

Now here was a problem that Reed _had _predicted but chose to ignore out of arrogance… and ignorance. "All of these upgrades are draining _how much power_?" He choked, staring at the former Federation scientist. He waved his hand when he saw that the scientist was about to reply. "It was a rhetorical question," he mumbled. Shit – he should have seen this little problem coming.

'_In a way you did,_' he thought. '_Should've prepared for it though – damn it, I'm stupid. Don't talk to yourself like that,_' he argued, '_you aren't stupid you're just a bit slow. Which, when I think about it, isn't good for… Gah! Stop it!_'

He was talking to himself again.

'_Not good._'

Since the Klingon-Federation War broke out several days ago, all of his plans (which were very complex and reliant on his constant good luck,) had broken apart. Starfleet had withdrawn all of its support and funding that he had used to secretly upgrade his ship with his cache of Romulan and Federation technology. While he didn't _rely _on Starfleet, it meant that it was going to be harder to maintain the… mix-match of technologies he had in his ship.

There was also the fact that he felt he wasn't needed anymore. He had bartered the more 'advanced' Goa'uld technologies away, and the Federation wasn't asking for anything else. The war, he heard, was going in the Federation's favor.

The Federation's Hyperdrive gave them an unparalleled advantage over the Klingon's, able to strike faster and further than the Klingon's could. Of course there was a drawback he hadn't counted on – the Goa'uld Hyperdrive was extremely power-consuming, and Federation ships had to shut off most of their systems just to power it. A trade off, but one the Federation was willing to accept.

Despite that though, the Klingon's weren't doing bad. The Gorn, while highly militaristic, were second- (or third-) rate powers in the quadrant and held a small territory. The Federation's intervention had stalled the Klingon advance, but the Gorn were on the verge of collapse. The Cardassian's, Tholian's and Romulan's were all watching to see what happened. He… he watched too, namely because he didn't want to get involved in a war that could potentially kill him.

He wasn't ready to die.

Then again, he thought, didn't entirely stop his attempts to get advanced technology. With the Industrial Replicators he had on the planet (which was still very lightly populated with barely a few hundred people that didn't like him sadly enough,) he had created a small fleet of ships, all Goa'uld in design.

The newly designed Al'kesh (refined, modified and 'fixed' by his scientists) was a force to be dealt with. Thirty-five meters long, it had an impressive arsenal to anything any of the Alpha Quadrant powers had (not meaning their starships.) The ship had four Photon torpedo launchers, two pulse cannons, and three Disruptors. Adding to its relatively thick hull, the Al'kesh had two layers of underpowered Goa'uld shielding, strong enough to handle a few Photon Torpedoes. With the Industrial Replicators at his disposal, he had replicated twenty Al'kesh. He had also remodeled the Death Gliders with Disruptors and a single torpedo launcher, replicating fifty to supplement his force.

His own _personal Starfleet_!

To be honest though, most of the ideas had come from his own guards and new additions. The only things that had come from his own mind were the trade with the Romulan's and modifying his Al'kesh and Gliders. That didn't sit right with him, but what was he going to do? He didn't mind the ideas, but it made him feel… left out. He had tried to replicate Nish'ta, but the Replicator's had been unable to.

Due to his plans on leaving this reality in the near future, he had bought a 23rd Century Cargo bay from a Federation scrap yard and welded to the bottom of his ship. He had his Industrial Replicators brought onboard and still had enough space to hide three Glider's in it. That still left the issue of his Al'kesh and rest of his Glider's though. Where was he going to put them?

He'd figure that out soon enough.

He had sent a few Al'kesh out to the 'nearby' quadrant powers – the Cardassian Union and Breen mainly. While both were insignificant compared to the Federation, Romulan's and Klingon's, they weren't involved in the war a_nd _he felt sorry for them. Well, he felt something akin to pity they had suffered horribly because of the Dominion War. There was also the fact that they had some interesting technology from what his new scientists had told him. That and he read about the Cardassian's so he knew that they had some useful technologies.

_Unfortunately_, things hadn't worked out the way he had planned due to a mixture of bad planning and damn arrogance, _his _arrogance. Of the five ships he sent to the two powers to negotiate trade, only one returned. The Cardassian's and Breen had seized his Al'kesh and the survivor had managed to barely escape judging by the scorch marks on the hull. Although he didn't plan on staying here any longer, he knew that would affect the balance of power in the Quadrant soon enough. He didn't plan on waiting to see the results though.

He sighed.

He dismissed the science officer (formerly, he reminded himself,) and looked over the PADD at the schematics of his upgraded flagship. He flinched at the design of the ship. In order to hold the technology that had been put into his ship, Starfleet had strapped on new sections (that wasn't the proper word…) unto his ship. His pyramid ship lacked the 'elegance' a Goa'uld ship had, lacked the smooth surface it once possessed. It looked… ugly.

He didn't like that.

There was an audible beep, breaking his train of thought indicating someone wanted to talk to him. He opened the channel and the holographic image of one of his soldiers aboard his ship appeared. He was in his house, planet side while his new scientists/engineer's worked on fixing the power issues as best as they could. To his surprise, he saw Riker appear in front of him with a frown on his face.

"Hello Mr. Riker."

Riker just nodded. He noticed that the bearded man had a frown on his face. Suddenly, for some reason, Reed felt as if something had gone wrong somewhere. He felt a shiver go down his spine as Riker stared at him. "So what brings you here?"

"You've seem to have built yourself quite a little fleet there, Mr. Reed."

"Protection – Starfleet can't be everywhere at once," he said. That was true, with the war and all. "So what's this? A social call? I haven't done anything Starfleet hasn't wanted me to do." Not recently, anyway, he thought to himself.

"Oh?"

"Yes."

"Then tell me why you have Romulan cloaking technology and Romulan weaponry on your ship," Riker said harshly. Reed stared at Riker with horror on his face. How… how the hell did Riker know about that? "Time Lord cloaking indeed," he grunted. "That was against the agreement you had with Starfleet. Who've you been talking to behind Starfleet's back? The Klingon's? The Cardassian? The Ferengi? The Dominion? The Gorn or Tholian's?"

"I-"

He closed his mouth, and then smiled.

To hell with it.

Before Riker could do anything, he quickly took two steps back and pressed a crystal on his Kara Kesh as rings rose up and he vanished in a flash of light. Seconds later, he reappeared in the ring room of his flagship, and pressed his comm. Badge. "Raise shields and arm weapons," he said as he made his way to the bridge a few decks upward. "The Federation ship in system – attack it."

There was a pause.

"Yes, my Emperor."

**.**

"Tactical analysis Mr. Tuvok," Riker ordered calmly.

"His ship has been heavily modified Captain," the Vulcan said, consulting the tactical sensors at his station. He had a near-permanent frown on his face. "The ship is protected by two deflector shields. It is armed with sixty 'Staff' Cannons, eight torpedo launchers and nine disruptors. The Power signatures are fluctuating, suggesting that the power core for the vessel cannot power the vessel entirely."

"Sir, they've raised their shields. They're targeting us."

"Return the favor," Riker barked, "Mr. Mecatus, hail them."

"They aren't responding."

Riker only glared at the ship as it opened fire. He had come to like Alexander a bit. He had felt pity for him, had felt anguish for hearing that he was the last of his race. But for all the kindness Starfleet had shown him, he betrayed them and used them. "Brace for impact," he declared as a stream of bright gold energy pulses shot out from one of the starship's main guns. The _Titan_'s forward shields glowed a blazing golden at the points where the pulses impacted.

The deck beneath his feet shuddered dramatically.

"Damage report!"

"Shield's dropped to 67%," Tuvok reported.

"Return fire," he ordered calmly. A bright orange beam of phased particle energy shot out of the upper forward phaser strip. The beam streaked across the starlit blackness of space to impact misshapen Pyramid-ship's shields, flaring a soft blue.

"Direct hit," Tuvok reported. "Primary shield layer is down to 50%. They are firing again." Multiple streams of plasma fire shot from the alien starship as every primary cannon that could be brought to bear fired followed by a wave of Photon torpedoes. Alexander wasn't playing any games, Riker thought.

"Evasive maneuvers!"

Short phaser beams crisscrossed space, destroying torpedoes from afar as the _Luna_-class starship evaded the plasma bolts. Mr. Reed's ship began to move at last, returning fire with its disruptors. Green beams and golden plasma bolts smashed against his shields, but they held despite the relentless assault. Starfleet had made improvements with their Deflector shields, and they were far superior to the ones that Starfleet had given Mr. Reed.

"They've lost primary shields."

"Hail them again," Riker ordered. He wanted a peaceful resolution to this – he didn't want to kill anyone today. He was only mildly disappointed though, when they refused to answer.

"Sir, seven smaller vessels are approaching – they're firing at us!"

"Shield's have fallen to 32%, Captain."

Fire Quantum Torpedoes," he said as the _Titan _dived below the starship, firing at its base. A weak point in the design – they couldn't be hit. Several crescent-shaped fighters were bisected as phaser fire sliced them apart. A larger ship, twelve times smaller than the _Titan_, took a Photon torpedo before it was destroyed. If this was all that Reed could throw at him, then he felt sorry.

Somewhat.

"Yes sir."

The _Titan _turned, its impulse engines flaring as it targeted the Time Lord warship. The ship buckled as it struck time and time again by the fighters and Runabout's. Tuvok let out a warning that the shields were on the verge of failing. He ignored it – they'd gone against Borg ships tougher than Mr. Reed's ship's. He noticed that the ship began to shimmer, as if a multitude of colors was enveloping it. Another trick from Reed's bag. "Target the main power core."

"Aye sir… Torpedo's locked and ready."

"Fire."

Four Quantum Torpedoes shot out from _Titan_'s torpedo bays,sending a string of three brilliant sapphire projectiles towards the midsection of the misshapen pyramid. "Good bye, Mr. Reed," Riker muttered just as the power readings for the Time Lord warship suddenly spiked and a flash of light enveloped the ship and it vanished.


	19. Chapter 19

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Stargate or any of other universes I'm going to crossover with…**

**.**

**Reviews:**

**Danny: Oh yes…. But that won't be for a while. The Federation on the other hand…. **

**John777: Reed is going to become xenophobic. He hasn't shown it yet (I never put it in,) but he's going to see it as a… duty to stop what happened to his Earth happen here. When he finds out where he is… he's a BIG Halo fan. **

**VexMaster: Answered and replied. How this is good as well. **

**ShadowCub: Ja. But it usually only works for starships named **_**Enterprise**_**. :D**

**Stark40763: No, he isn't making friends. But everywhere he's going is only a temporary stay. He'll get better when things calm down for him. He has a lot of Nish'ta to use, and he barely used any of it so far. **

**.**

**Don't forget to review! It makes me happier to get reviews!**

**.**

**Inspired by StarGate: Galactic Imperium » by VexMaster.**

**.**

**Also read this: Clash of Empires... co-written with VexMaster.**

**Also read this: Stargate: Galactic Imperium… written by VexMaster**

**Also read this: Golden Dawn... written by Amann**

**Also read this: War of Gods and Men... written by Amann**

**Also read this: Consequences of War... written by Lord Hierarch (lol)**

**.**

_What we think, we become._

**Buddhist Quote**

**.**

_From his domain, the Agent watched his charge act. Was it not for his influence and the will of his Master, young Alexander would never have made it this far. How many minds had be molded to be more susceptible to the wants of his charge? How many times had he changed fate and held back the intervention of various powers who strove to steal his technology and mind? It would be a long time until his charge became smart enough to protect himself._

_Until then, he had to do it for him._

_What a demeaning job. _

_He watched young Alexander's future pan out. There were many different breaks. Still, he could see events that were set in stone, as the humans would say it. So deep was he in viewing the timelines that he failed to notice the appearance of an extra dimensional being until he noticed certain events being altered. The changes were subtle, but to him they were as clear as a super nova. He was annoyed and bothered by the appearance of another being in his domain, especially one that wasn't an Agent. "You can come out now, whoever you are."_

"_Ah, so you can sense my presence. So there is more to you than being an ape above your station," Q smirked. "I can tell I am going to have fun with you, more so than Picard ever gave me."_

_The Agent flinched. He was well acquainted with the Q Continuum, especially their most infamous child, Q. H had interfered in their affairs multiple times at the whims of his Master. At times, he had been forced to eradicate the Continuum from different parallel dimensions. The result was the rise of another species to take their place. In every dimension, there had to be at least one species to uphold the mantle of creation and death and power. _

"_Apes? I did not evolve from apes," he countered, "Unlike you." He enjoyed watching Q bristle at that. While the Q prided themselves on being above 'evolution,' they were a lower species compared to him, the others and his Master." _

"_What's the difference? You chose the figure of an ape." Q was deliberately being provocative here. The Agent didn't have enough want in him to remind Q that the original figure of a Q was similar to that of apes. He also didn't want enough want to remind Q that he was not just in the figure of a human, but he wore one of the human's uniforms, a Starfleet Admiral he believed it was. "This is a comfy little dimension you have here, but mine's bigger!"_

"_Is it?" The Agent said, not cracking a smile. "Are the Q so self conscious of their limitations in the face of greater beings that they try to make jokes on size?"_

"_Who are you?"_

"_You ask that in my dimension? How inappropriate. If I was in the Continuum I would understand, however limiting and ill-conceived the Continuum is." He noticed how serious Q became then, and snapped his fingers. His chose of clothing shifted and cemented, solidifying until he was dressed in a mockery of Time Lord Garb. Appropriate, considering that in another universe, the Time Lords would eradicate the Q and claim their new universe as their charge. "I am everything and nothing – I am an agent of a being greater than you."_

_Q rolled his eyes. "You have more arrogance than Picard," he noted._

"_Arrogance is earned. Have you earned it, Q?"_

_As expected, Q took the bait. "You accuse me of arrogance? I could blast you and this dimension out of existence if I felt like it. I could turn you inside out and turn this entire **pocket **dimension into slush. I can be arrogant because I have a reason to be. I have a right to be. So... what's **your **excuse?"_

_He laughed, and laughed harder when he saw Q flinch and gawk at him for laughing. Oh the Q were powerful, but only when connected to their own Continuum. He existed in an entirely separate plane of existence, out of the reach of the Continuum. The tear Q had made when he breached the barrier had already sealed, cutting Q off from the others. "Empty boasts, weak and insignificant," he retorted. _

"_How-"_

"_Dare I, oh mighty Q?" He taunted. "Strike me down; show me the power of Q!"_

_Q glared at him. "Gladly," he said with a malice unbefitting of a Q. "I am a god compared to you." The Agent only stared into Q's eyes, spreading his arms out. What an inappropriate comparison. Even Gods bowed before servants like him. With that Q gestured imaging the Agent being turned into a dog. Nothing happed. He tried clicked his fingers again, this time imaging the Agent screaming in unimaginable agony. Again the same result. His eyes widened as he snapped his fingers again, throwing him into a black hole, but he stood in defiance. "How?" _

_So engrossed in shock Q failed to notice the Agent lowering his arms and reach out and punch him in the face. It had been a longtime since he had felt physical pain. Pain followed by fear as the Agent stamped on him, blood spurting from his mouth. "Where is your vaunted powers now Q?" He taunted. _

"_How? How can you take away my power?"_

"_You draw energy from the Q Continuum. Even within the lowest plane the link weakens. In this dimension, in my home, the Q has no power. There is no link to connect you to the Continuum. Here, you are the lowest microbe staring into the face of **God**. _

_Too late Q realized he had fallen into a trap. He realized he most probably wasn't going to be able to take any torture. Not in this frail human body he now occupied. Fortunately, torture was considered to be below the Agent and he simply erased Q from existence. Still, he had to admire the Q for his attempts and the power he exerted. Briefly, Q had managed to tap in the energy of his dimension, although he hadn't managed to maintain the link with it to utilize it. _

_With the annoyance gone, he focused on his charge. _

_Oops – he was late. _

_He sighed._

_Snap!_

**.**

The moment was almost upon him. It had been a mere three days since the _Fleet of Profound Retribution_ had arrived and already their ground forces had broken the bulk of the vermin's flimsily defenses below. In all of his years fighting the humans, he had rarely seen one of their planets fall so quickly. The humans fought with tenacity worthy of Sangheili, but they seldom lasted long against the might of the Covenant. Heretics always fell to faith. Still, he fought back a sense of disappointment that they had not fought harder.

When the Fleet had arrived, the human's orbital defenses had been a paltry force. The unwieldy tiny vessels had tried to fight, amusingly enough but they had been vaporized into free floating atoms within moments of their arrival. The crude machines and installations the humans had in orbit over their planet followed their defenses, preceding the landing of their ground forces.

He had claimed the planet thought and that was all that mattered. Soon he would cleanse the world of its filth and purify it of the heretics that had soiled its surface. It had been his ship had that followed the human cargo ship and uncovered the location of this '_Eden_,' a blight of a colony world on the outer fringes of what they considered 'their' space. The arrogance of such beings!

The Fleet had left after the second day to burn other worlds, leaving him and several other ships to commit the ultimate honor. He had personally interrogated the human when they boarded his ship and sent what little navigation data they had discovered to the High Prophets, the Holy Hierarchs. As he had hoped, the Prophets announced that the Great Journey of the Gods demanded that his world and its sinful inhabitants burn – completely.

They had burned their cities with limited plasma fire, boiling their naval installations and their military fortifications. Their ground forces purged underground bastions of their infestations and herded the humans into their cities for mass extermination. When the initial cleansing was complete, they began bombarding their oceans and forests. Their last act in the burning would be eradicating the remnants of the planet's atmosphere, ending the human infestation.

He watched as plasma rained down on the surface of the world, the angry black-red splotches flourishing on the surface as forests burned and mountains crumbled. He had seen and done many cleansings, and they all held their own unique beauty. There was no greater honor to a Sangheili Ship Master than to partake in the burning of the heretic's worlds. He relished this moment as he had relished all the others. This was a great moment.

"Your Excellency, sensors are detecting an anomaly one hundred kilometers away," Saal reported. The Ship Master narrowed his eyes. Was it human reinforcements? Rarely did the humans send vessels to protect a lost world. No matter – the humans would waste vessels in this futile attempt. "It is not a Slipstream exit window," Saal added moments later, a hint of confusion in his tone.

"Then what is it?"

"Unknown, your Excellency."

He huffed irritably as his vessel continued its cleansing. Another city vanished under multiple plasma beams. Three detachments of the Dn'end Combat Legion had discovered a human citadel in the mountains and had met minimal resistance in breaching its defenses. "Hail the _Penance _and _Esteem_. Send them to investigate the anomaly, perhaps the Gods has seen fit to show us a wonder," he breathed.

"Yes, my Excellency."

The two Battlecruiser's tore themselves from the orbits around the planet, their Repulsor engines flaring as the negative matter that the engines made use of 'repelled' the normal matter behind them. They accelerated quickly, smoothly flying through the vastness of space as they maneuvered towards their target.

A report from the ground – several Assault Gun Carriage's had been destroyed by a human trap. Even in death, the humans remained defiant to their fate. The Kig-Yar lance designated to protect the Gun Carriages were tracking the humans. If they failed, he noted, their ranks would be purged completely. He wondered how the humans could bring down the great vehicles without being caught. The Kig-Yar were natural hunters, adapt for tracking.

Interesting.

"Your Excellency, we're being hailed by the _Penance._"

"Accept. What news, brother?"

Before him, the holographic image of Ship Master Thal appeared, the holo-projector flashing a multitude of colors before the image solidified. "Hail brother," the Ship Master proclaimed. "The anomaly is a ship of unknown origins bearing a unique quantum signature. We've scanned the vessel and have detected numerous weapon emplacements of unknown type and design."

"A new species," he wondered aloud. The Covenant had not encountered a new species since the humans. The Covenant covered hundreds of light-years, and intelligent life was a rare gift. "Hail the vessel in the Sacred Tongue of the Gods."

"I have already done so, brother."

The ship's automated systems fired the engines, moving the great warship to target another section of the world. The selected region was very mountainous although the steep surfaces were covered with forests and trees of alien origin. The world would have been an excellent colony… if the humans had not infested its surface. Varo turned his head to the side, and then snarled after a moment. "Heresy!" The Sangheili snarled, snapping his mandibles.

"What is it brother?"

"It is a _human _vessel," Varo answered, clenching his clawed hands into fists. "Scans of the inhabitants have confirmed it. There are near fifty humans on that vessel."

"My Excellency, the energy level of the unknown… the _human_ ship" the Sangheili corrected his mistake, "is increasing."

"Purge this system of the human ship," the Ship Master snarled.

"Fire energy projector, dead-center targeting solution," the other Ship Master commanded, his holographic representation fading as he vanished from view.

A hundred kilometers away from the planet, the _Penance _and _Esteem _charged their plasma weapons as they targeted the human warship. Pitiful creatures, abominations to existence, the crews of the ships thought as the strangely designed vessel flickered to life. Deadly plasma lances shot from the ships, the initial discharge slow and wild. Moments later, the plasma smoothed, concentrated, and accelerated. To the surprise of the Ship Master's, the human vessel avoided the plasma, nimbly avoiding the first salvo. They hadn't seen any engines on the ship and had assumed it was unable to move.

Clearly they had been wrong.

'_The humans have acquired new technology,_' Varo thought darkly. '_Heresy!_' It did not matter though. Matching the speed of the new human vessel, the Covenant ships targeted the pyramid ship and charged their turrets for another salvo. It was only a matter of time before they eradicated the human infestation. "To victory," Varo snarled, "To the Covenant!"

"Damn that was close," Reed muttered, stumbling to his throne as his guards pressed various buttons on their consoles. Who the hell was firing on him? He didn't even do anything yet! The previous salvo had nearly gutted his ship and him too! '_They just messed with the wrong person,_' he thought smugly. His ship wasn't the best there was, but he had the technology of a half dozen races on it, mighty races that ruled an entire galaxy _and _what not. Target the nearest ship," he shouted unnecessarily loud, "Fire everything!"

The misshapen pyramid turned around as his guards, sluggishly from the dimensional jump, armed the weapons and lashed out with disruptors and a spread of Photon torpedoes. Globs of Plasma fire rained down on the vaguely organic-shaped ship from the Staff Cannons as silver splotches appearing whenever the ship was hit, striking across the kilometer-long vessel. He wondered why those ships looked so familiar to him. Where had he seen them before? The shields held however against the fierce barrage without a hint of damage.

'_Oh shit._'

That was _not _possible. His guards fired two more waves of Torpedoes only to impact harmlessly on their shields. '_I should have tried to get some Quantum Torpedoes,_' he thought. Several needle-thin beams shout out from the nearby ship, smashing against his shields. "Primary shield has dropped to 12%!"

"_What_" he shouted. Not possible. That was _not _possible! He was using Federation and Goa'uld technology! God damn it, Photon torpedoes were what, a hundred megatons? He should have destroyed that ship with the amount of torpedoes and plasma bolts he had thrown at it! This was not in his favor at all.

"Get me out of here," he shouted, "anywhere!"

"Spinning Hyperdrive sir," his guard announced.

"Shields have fallen! Secondary shields are at 45%!"

The Cheop Mothership dived below the sleek bulbous ship only to meet a wall of laser fire draining his shields with each hit. Steadily the shields were sapped of their strength as he exchanged constant fire. He hadn't done any physical damage to them yet, but they had already drained his first shield and his second-

"Secondary shields have fallen!"

Fuck.

_Snap_.

"_A bit late, aren't I?" _

Reed froze as the Agent stepped in front of him, that ever present arrogant smirk on his… face (faces?) He glanced at his finger nails, and Reed noticed that everyone had frozen in place. _"I was supposed to drag you to the little world the humans here call Reach just before you arrived… but I had to deal with an oversized pest that took longer than I expected. But I'm here now and you are lucky. Either way, you would have been lucky regardless. But last moment rescues are the norm for you humans, isn't it? Don't worry about your guards. I just froze time, a little additional gift from my Lord and Master."_

"Reach? What the hell is going on?"

"_I thought your time with the Federation calmed you down. You hurt yourself you know. You left half of your guards behind on your little ships, something I didn't expect. For someone who wants to unite Earth, you do a terrible job at keeping track of people._"

"What do you want?" He seethed.

"_Shut you ape," _the Agent snapped. He had forgotten how… annoying the delusional human was. _"I'm here, better late than never, or I could let you die here."_

"You wouldn't let me die."

The Agent's shifting faces seemed to frown (too fast for him to tell though,) and then he heard him laugh. _"You consider yourself too important. But the Void Keeper has chosen you to play in his games, so in a way you are important. I've also been tasked to speed up your progress."_ He smiled and Reed shuddered as a chill went down his spine. "_What better way to speed progress than to shed the skin of the old. But while **you **are important, your _**ship**_ is **not**."_

The ship shuddered as plasma burned through its hull, boiling away layer after layer into floating molecules. Reed could only stare at the where the Agent had been when everyone began moving again. '_You bastard!_' He thought, screaming.

_Snap!_

**.**

**United Nations Space Command ALPHA PRIORITY**

**TRANSMISSION D4592Z-83**

**Encryption Code: **Red

**Public Key:** File/bravo-tango-beta-five/

**From: **Admiral Roland Freemont, Commanding Fleet Officer, FLEETCOM Sector One Commander/ (UNSC vice Number: 00745-16778-HS)

**To: **ALL UNSC ships in the Epsilon Eridani Defense Fleet

**Subject: **IMMEDIEATE RECALL

**Classification: ** Classified (BGX Directive)

**.**

_/start file/_

Unknown type of ship detected exiting unknown spatial anomaly on REACH system edge coordinates 30 relative. It is presumed to be a new classification of Covenant ship.

All UNSC warships are hereby ordered to cease all activities and regroup at rally point **ZULU** at best speed.

**ALL SHIPS **are to enact Cole Protocol immediately.

**ALL** non-military ships are to begin evacuation of main cities on **REACH**, **TRIBUTE**, **BETA GABRIEL**, **CIRCUMSTANCE**, **TANTALUS** and **EPSILON ERIDANI IV**.

_/end file/_


	20. Chapter 20

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Stargate or any of other universes I'm going to crossover with…**

**.**

**Reviews:**

**Just a Crazy Man: Here you go!**

**The Hidden Sith: Hah hah. Yes, but Star Trek will get its somewhat revenge later on. He will get a new ship augmented with better tech. **

**Shighaara: Thanks!**

**Stark40763: Yeah…**

**.**

**Don't forget to review! It makes me happier to get reviews!**

**.**

**Inspired by StarGate: Galactic Imperium » by VexMaster.**

**.**

**Also read this: Clash of Empires... co-written with VexMaster.**

**Also read this: Stargate: Galactic Imperium… written by VexMaster**

**Also read this: Golden Dawn... written by Amann**

**Also read this: War of Gods and Men... written by Amann**

**Also read this: Consequences of War... written by Lord Hierarch (lol)**

**.**

"_He, who commands the past, conquers the future. He who commands the future conquers the past"_

**Kane**

**.**

The Agent watched as the chaos he unleashed on the suspecting humans and aliens of this version of the Milky Way Galaxy. The human race of the 25th Century was pitting itself against the vastly more powerful Covenant, machine and bone against faith and delusion. Ironically, the humans were losing. Century… the lower races did have amusing terms for linear time, he thought.

He thought of pushing Reed into an earlier time, perhaps before this little Interstellar war started but that would have only extended the time he would spend here and the Void Keeper wanted him to _shorten _the time young Alexander spent gallivanting across the multiverse. So he threw him just before the climax of the war, the Battle of 'Reach.' Actually he had sent him a few months before the Covenant (not _**the **_Covenant,) attacked the world.

Even if he did help though, with all of the technology he had on his ship, it wouldn't do much to change the timeline that much. Goa'uld and Federation technology were nothing more than glorified pop guns, and most of his offensive weaponry was eclipsed by the more conventional methods the UNSC had. The only real advantages he had over the humans of this future were his Industrial Replicators and the various medical technologies the Federation had given.

He fast forwarded.

Two years past and humanity was on the path to recovery. Reed had left a year ago on a hybrid ship scavenged from Reach's orbit and ventured back to Terella. The organization ONI would know that though, having read his records without his knowledge. That wouldn't do them much good since they had most of Reed's 'useful' technologies. Fifty years into the future and humanity will be a regional interstellar power, challenging the powers of a resurgent Covenant Empire. The Sangheili would be a neutral power all the while searching for Forerunner artifacts.

Alexander would return to Terella where he would abandon the world and bring his army on his ship. He would go to Earth and try to steal a UNIT (how cute) ship only to find Anubis conquering it and etcetera, etcetera. That wasn't enough.

He reached into Alexander's timeline, the current incarnation, and manipulated its many threads. He cut several timelines off and integrated them together and then replaced certain events. No need for the Empire to discovery him several days after his arrival. What Alexander would be without him, he wondered.

Or right, he'd be dead.

That never got old.

He directed him into another universe to gather an army large enough and strong enough to conquer his world and ensure order. Several major variations diverged from this although in all cases it would only go into Alexander's favor depending on how smart he was.

He paused at that.

Oh well.

**.**

Spiraling out of the spatial disturbance, the misshapen pyramid warship plunged back into real space, its speed and momentum tearing the once golden hull apart piece by piece. Guards held on for dear life wherever they could as the ship began to slow down, as if an outside force had grabbed unto the spinning top. Then as if bored by the sight, the force threw the ship again and several guards barely had time to utter a scream as they were pulverized into globs of flesh and bone and metal. All the while the Agent smiled.

Yet something happened that escaped his all-seeing view. Three tiny dart-shaped crafts with purple-tinted windows vanished in flashes of multi-colored light, and the timeline split apart as time itself struggled to repair the mistakes. The Agent didn't see this, too involved in correcting mistakes and preventing mistakes.

Alexander screamed as he clutched his golden throne, resisting the urge to vomit over himself. "Stop this!" He shouted, barely holding down his lunch, and continued his pleading. "Oh God stop it please!" The Agent didn't appear, but he thought he heard him _laughing_.

The bastard!

At the last moment, the ship stopped spinning and Reed flew from this throne at the view screen. He barely managed to activate his Kara Kesh shield as he smacked into it, the golden flare protecting him. That didn't stop him from feeling pain though… or from vomiting. '_I will hurt you so much,_' he thought woozily. "Status report," he shouted, thinking back to all of the Sci Fi movies he used to watch. Captains usually said that when they wanted info, right?

'_Yeah… yeah,_' he thought.

"Mwah?"

"Just tell me…. Oh god… the status of the ship," he said between heaves.

"Yeah, yes…"

"We' don't have Hyperdrive anymore," a guard said slowly.

"There's damage… dam…damage all over the ship," the other said.

"There are twelve people missing…."

"There is power loss all over the ship…"

"And…"

"Yeah… that's it. I think."

"You _think_?" He demanded.

His guards vomited.

Reed grumbled as he wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his clothes, careful not to step into his vomit, or that of his sick guards. "Do we at least have scanners or sensors so we can see where we are?" He asked wearily, glad that the ship had shaken. The damage report didn't seem that bad. He had expected more damage and more dead. He could replicate the parts he needed to fix the Hyperdrive easy enough. '_Like I thought – the Agent is all talk._' He ignored the fact that the Agent and thrown around him like a spinning top.

No need to hurt his ego any more.

"Sir… I'm detecting fifty or so ships in the system."

"What?" Was it those vaguely familiar ships that had attacked him without provocation? Shit, his ship was in no position to fight. Still, he could make a show of force. '_Bad move, you might instigate them,_' his 'other' told him which he promptly ignored. "Arm all weapons and fire a warning salvo," he said pompously.

"Sir?"

"Just do it," he snapped.

For a moment, insanity took hold over Reed. It was the type of insanity that would not appear for millennia's, after the Two Betrayals, the War in Heaven and the Third Time War. For a brief moment Reed lost track of his goal and sought only power, forgoing his plans. But it was only a brief moment, and Reed remembered his goal for Earth: the birth place of his Great Empire.

A murderous hail of golden plasma fire burst from the multiple Staff cannons on the stricken hull. Two Staff Cannons erupted, unable to fire the plasma which ignited within them. They streaked towards the large fleet of gray-hulled ships, missing them by a large margin. The fleet of warships responded in kind.

Was it not for the interference of the Agent, the hail of missiles would have vaporized Alexander's pyramid ship. The following salvo from the defense fleet's MAC's would have certainly destroyed the lone ship if the Agent had made them appear in the middle of High Charity's defense fleet (several ships were destroyed having been caught with their shields down.) Of course he allowed a handful of missiles to make it through to show Alexander he was at _his _mercy. He was watching over him and he was meant to live. But that did not mean he could not indirectly hurt him when he wanted to.

Alexander took that lesson to heart.

Of course not all the credit could go to the Agent alone. Disruptor fire had sliced missiles from afar and a small number of ships had been destroyed upon impacting with the shields. However the few missiles that the Agent had let go threw had caused enough damage to fulfill the Agent's warning that the ship Alexander had claimed, wasn't important. Half his guards were dead, and there were various breaches all over the hull. Sublight engines were capable of going at 2% the speed of light now, and most of the ship was without power.

'_Told you so,_' the voice said gleefully.

Climbing back to his throne, he threw himself on it and coughed. One of his guards was slumped over the floor, a jagged piece of metal sticking out from his chest. His throat felt raw. "Is this what you wanted," he rasped, "all of this? Is it?"

He didn't get a reply.

He sat on his blood stained throne, staring into the abyss as he thought about how it could have all gone wrong so quickly. This wasn't fair – it wasn't fair! He didn't notice several small fighters' appear on the view screen, inching towards his wounded ship. Or the fact that they were recording his ship and relaying it to the carrier they had just left from. He didn't notice at all.

"_Interesting design, wouldn't you say so Admiral? Nothing like the ships the Covenant have constructed in the past. I never thought the Covenant would try something so… human like this,_" The Military AI said starkly, shaking his head.

"Interesting isn't the way I would put it Otto."

"_Admiral?_"

The four-star Admiral glanced at the holographic AI and cracked a smile. "I don't think its Covenant. You're right on the design. The Covenant, as far as we know, have gone for elegance and intimidation. Even their vehicles share similar characteristics. This ship lacks both, and it's woefully under powered. The Covenant isn't into the game of playing cat and mouse," he added.

The AI frowned.

"_What do you suggest it is?_"

"First Contact with a previously unknown alien species."

Otto cocked his head in surprise. "_First Contact sir? The UNSC has not made contact with any alien races other than those belonging to the Covenant since 2525. The fact that the ship-_"

"Came out of an unknown spatial anomaly and was achieving speeds we can dream with a design entirely opposite of what the Covenant builds indicate that it is _not _Covenant," he interrupted. "Furthermore, sensor outposts have found a number of near-human life signs in ship, the majority with weak life signs."

Otto scoffed – near human indeed! At the same time he scoffed, he checked on those sensor logs. To his surprise, the sensors all came to same conclusion. There were humans on that ship, or aliens with near human characteristics. That was interesting, and he was sure that ONI would like to know that.

"_What are you order's then, Admiral?_"

"We haven't made a first good impression on our new alien friends, Otto and we don't know how they will respond. I doubt they know about the war and will care about it. Hopefully we can find a common language to try and smooth relations over." He saw the look Otto was giving him and went on, "what if they technology on par with the Covenant? Technology like that can help us shore up our defenses, save more lives and may even allow us to take the fight to the enemy."

The AI sighed at that. The Admiral wasn't entirely sane. He had been promoted in the middle of the war after a victory over several Covenant ships at the cost of eighteen ships, a fairly even tally of losses considering the usual rates the UNSC lost in battle. However he had used his rank to put together a fleet, one hundred eighteen ships, and attempt to attack the Covenant, 'taking the fight to them' as he had put it. Needless to say, the fleet had returned back to UNSC space with three-quarters of their number gone.

Still, he had won three victories over the Covenant (at horrendous losses though) and due to ONI covering up the losses, he was regarded as a hero by the people. Victories over the Covenant were rare and the Ministry of Propaganda had bled the victories dry to keep morale up. As a result, the UNSC kept James Whiskey on the Admiralty and assigned him to watch over his actions. It was a task he felt was below him and it was. He could do so much more.

How demeaning.

"_What are your orders, then Admiral?_"

**.**

**0130 Hours, May 16, 2552 (Standard Military Calendar) / SecOne Prowler **_**Mice and Men**_

**.**

Watching history play out before them, the crew of the Prowler couldn't help but feel amazed despite their line of work. The Benefactor had been right again, despite being a few minutes off in his calculations. Commander Cross whispered a prayer at the damage the overly-aggressive idiots in the Navy had done. She didn't care about the humans aboard the ship. All that mattered to her was the technology on that ship the Benefactor had said was on it.

Unlike the Prowler's that the other Sections used, SecOne's Prowler looked nothing like them. It was an ugly slab, even by the standards of human-built ships. However it compensated for its horrendous appearance with technology that were entirely out of place for the time period. As a result of that, the _Mice and Men _was the most technologically advanced ship in the galaxy, save for those used by the extinct Forerunner's.

It was an honor, the commander knew, to have been trusted to command such a vessel. She was the only one of her kind, the shipyards she had been built at having been destroyed several days after her completion by the Covenant. SecOne spent a great deal of resources studying and implanting the technology had had been given to aid in the war effort. She knew how dangerous her position was. If she ever led the unsanctioned Prowler into a situation that could lead to its destruction, her life was forfeit. That was how the ship's previous commander had been... how would it be said? 'Removed from his position.'

Yes, that was good.

"Return to your duties gentlemen, we have a lot of work of ahead of us now that the event is playing out now. Continue to monitor the situation and contact me when the Admiral _or _the Captain of that ship makes a move."

"Understood commander," was the reply.

She strode out of the bridge and towards her room, still feeling admiration for the elegant crafting of the ship. Thanks to the Benefactor, the UNSC had been better prepared for the Covenant at least that was what he (or she) told them. She didn't understand what he/she meant, but she didn't really care.

The room was expansive for such a little ship. The Prowler had so many technologies that the UNSC was trying to understand, covertly of course. "Coffee," she said. The Replicator let out a soft whine before a cup of warm coffee appeared. It was such a marvel, something that had SecOne's cadre of scientists stumbling over each other. They all wanted to be the first to 'discover' and patent the Replicator. _When _man won the war, and she was sure they would in the long run, the person who did crack the Replicator would be rich.

~_Commander_? ~

She pressed her comm. Badge. "Yes? What is it?"

~_Message from our AI on Admiral Whisky's flagship, he reports that the Admiral has sent two Pelicans to the ship to attempt communication, 'First Contact,' commander. What are your orders? _~

She smiled. "Continue observing."

~_Yes sir. _~

"I trust events happened as I said they would?"

She paused mid-sip and turned around.

Like a statue, the Benefactor stood in the middle of the room, the shadowy figure of a human body. "The ship arrived," she said, putting down her cup, "just a little after you said it would though."

"Acceptable. The winds of time flow differently here in this universe, extremely divergent from our own too." The commander frowned – 'this universe?' "However we are rectifying that problem. Did you know, Commander Rebecca Cross, that if we hadn't approached your organization, you wouldn't be doing as well as you are doing now?"

"What do you mean?"

The hologram shifted.

"The Battle of Cora IV – thirteen UNSC ships destroyed, one Covenant Destroyer destroyed, and the planet is glassed. The Battle of Jericho VII, decimation of the core forces of the Third Fleet as well as moderate infantry losses, the Covenant glass the planet with light space and heavy ground losses."

She frowned. The UNSC had lost the Cora IV yes, but they had lost fifteen ships and took out three Covenant ships with an Assault Carrier too. They had won at Jericho VII though, taking out forty Covenant ships with eighty seven warships. "By this time, thirty nine colony worlds would have been lost but due your recent string of victories, or draws against their forces, the Covenant had held back their forces for the movement. You should be proud of that."

"What are you-?"

"Contact your superiors" The Benefactor went on, ignoring her, "and tell them this: Do _not _trust the man on that ship. Do not let him talk or move anywhere. Keep in your sights at all times. My ancestors trusted him, and he only brought war."

"Why would he do that?"

"Because he's a paranoid and arrogant young man," the holographic man said, his distorted voice becoming graver. "I've overstayed my welcome. Tell your leaders what I have told you. Use the specialized subspace beacon I set up for you,"

"You never gave me that."

"Look behind you."

She did and gaped. There was an object behind that hadn't been there before. "How'd you-"

He was gone.

**.**

"Was the mission a success Agent Dulmer?"

"It was Captain," the 30th Century Temporal Agent said as he stepped off the Temporal Communipad. "I doubt that the humans of this universe will fall for Mr. Reed's trick's this time. We've done too much and invested too much in the survival of this version of human race to allow this person to ruin it all."

The Captain nodded.

When they had unlatched their Aeon-class Timeship's off Alexander Reed's warship, the unexpected energy shock from whatever method he had used to flee the attack of the USS _Titan _had activated their Temporal Displacement Drive, throwing the three Timeship's one hundred twenty years into the past.

They had hid for eight years; stranded in the past of what they soon realized was an alternate history. They had repaired a single Timeship to look into the future and saw what was going to happen to the humans of this universe – the Human-Covenant War. Armed with this knowledge they had begun accelerating their technological development. Without Warp Drive, Matter-Antimatter Cores or even low-level starship plasma weaponry, they had found it difficult. But they had persevered, and they were doing the best to help.

Their location in the time stream however was less than ideal. They had lost the Temporal Displacement Drive and the Earth of this universe weren't advanced enough to provide the tools needed to replace the delicate piece of equipment. As a result, they were stuck in the past, two hundred years before the 'present.'

Time Travel was… difficult.

"What is the status of the timeline?"

"Mr. Reed's ship will be confiscated by SecOne and Admiral Whisky will be honorably discharged from service after he is 'diagnosed' with a terminal mental illness. Commander Cross of SecOne will take his place and oversee study of Mr. Reed's technology. In a year the Covenant will attack Sigma Octanus IV but basic shielding technology will be widely available at the time as well as 23rd century-era sensor arrays. 22nd century-type Photonic Torpedoes will have already been distributed to their Cruisers. Reach will fall but the Covenant will suffer heavy casualties. Earth will be attacked only for the Covenant force to be repelled and ships equipped with Warp Drive and AM/M cores will begin to appear…" Yes, the timeline seemed to be going well. It could go better but they had to smooth out the wrinkles little by little.

'_What poor little time bugs,_' the Agent thought as he masked Alexander's history from the newcomers. It surprised him how they had managed to do so much from behind his back but then again he had been focused on more important things so he shouldn't be surprised that he had overlooked something as trivial as this.

Still it was an insult he could not allow.

'_Its poor to be you…_'


	21. Chapter 21

Hullo there!

Wow. How long has it been since the last update? Nine months, right? Well then, sad to say there is no more updates. Not for this story, anyway.

Honestly, when I first started this I wanted it something to be like VexMaster's Imperium, but with my own twist. The OC was going to be a villain, I knew that. I add the religion then and laid it on nice and thick to try and parody it (didn't work out so I lessened the weight later on). But after 'several' re-writes I have an idea for the Covenant and I honestly don't want to write it down from beginning to end. But it was was nice, and it was fun and I hope that you did enjoy it. And to those who said it was awful because of the religious thing... meh, we're all entitled to our own opinion though I do agree it was too much. Instead I'm going to do snapshots, cut to the main events of the Covenant when its already established and start from there. If anyone is still interested, review please on this story. The later story won't be up for a bit.

Sorry there.


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